"
His Lordship fell into furious rage, and vowed he would sever
Christopher's head from his rotting body with a cleaver, and honour
him not with a thought of Tyburn Hill. He would burn yonder monastery
and all within to ashes for the wind to carry away; and he would lock
Katherine in the tower with his own hands; and he started toward the
door, half-dressed as he was, and flung it wide open.
Her Grace of Ellswold stood upon the threshold with a warning finger
raised.
"Thou hast a clamourous tongue, Cedric; the doctor hath enjoined
silence, as holding for the moment the greatest good for his Grace."
"Now God forgive me! I was so wrought upon by foul communication I am
well nigh distraught.--How is his Grace?"
"He is resting quietly; but I thought but now, as I heard thy
voice--indistinctly, 'tis true,--his pulse did flutter extraly."
"Dear aunt, forgive; thou shalt not be thus annoyed again." He turned
and strode up and down the room with bent head.
Janet watched him narrowly, wondering the while that any female, of
whatsoever age, could withstand such fine mould, masculine grace and
handsome features; such strong heart and hot blood.
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