- mine!
Her will I wed, and none other. Strive as thou wilt, thou wilt never
pluck her from my hand. Thou wilt but draw down upon thine own head a
fearful fate, and she too shall suffer bitterly if thou failest to heed
my words."

And with a look of hatred and fury that seemed indeed to have something
positively devilish in it, Sanghurst turned and strode away, leaving
Raymond to make what he could of the vindictive threats launched at him.
Had this man, in truth, some occult power of which none else had the
secret; or was it but an idle boast, uttered with the view of terrifying
one who was but a boy in years?

Raymond knew not, could not form a guess; but his was a nature not prone
to coward fears. He resolved to go home and take counsel with his good
cousin John.

CHAPTER XV. THE DOUBLE SURRENDER.

On a burning day in July, nearly a year from the time of their parting,
the twin brothers met once more in the camp before Calais, where they
had parted the previous autumn. Raymond had been long in throwing off
the effect of the severe injuries which had nearly cost him his life
after the Battle of Crecy; but thanks to the rest and care that had been
his in his uncle's house, he had entirely recovered. Though not quite so
tall nor so broad-shouldered and muscular as Gaston, who was in truth a
very prince amongst men, he was in his own way quite as striking, being
very tall, and as upright as a dart, slight and graceful, though no
longer attenuated, and above all retaining that peculiar depth and
purity of expression which had long seemed to mark him out somewhat from
his fellow men, and which had only intensified during the year that had
banished him from the stirring life of the camp.

"Why, Brother," said Gaston, as he held the slim white hands in his
vise-like clasp, and gazed hungrily into the face he had last seen so
wan and white, "I had scarce dared to hope to see thee again in the camp
of the King after the evil hap that befell thee here before; but right
glad am I to welcome thee hither before the final act of this great
drama, for methinks the city cannot long hold out against the famine
within and our bold soldiers without the walls. Thou hast done well to
come hither to take thy part in the final triumph, and reap thy share of
the spoil, albeit thou lookest more like a youthful St. George upon a
church window than a veritable knight of flesh and blood, despite the
grip of thy fingers, which is