FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169  
170   171   172   173   174   175   176   177   178   179   180   181   182   183   184   185   186   187   188   189   190   191   192   193   194   >>   >|  
n the most guiltless--the most guiltless--do you hear?--of the Norman house. Never, never shall she have the chance! Come, thy striped petticoat!' 'But, oh! what will Madame do? Where would she go? Oh! it is impossible.' 'First to thy father's. Yes, I know. He has once called it a madness to think of rallying my vassals to protect their lady. That was when he heard of it from thee--thou faint of heart--and thy mother. I shall speak to him in person now. Make haste, I tell thee, girl. I must be out of this place before I am watched or guarded,' she added breathlessly. 'I feel as if each moment I lost might have death upon it;' and she looked about her like a startled deer. 'To my father's. Ah! there it is not so ill! But the twilights, the length of way,' sobbed Veronique, in grievous distress and perplexity. 'Oh! Madame, I cannot see you go. The Mother Abbess is good. She must have pity. Oh, trust to her!' 'Trust! Did I not trust to my cousin Diane? Never! Nothing will kill me but remaining in their hands.' Veronique argued and implored in vain. Ever since, in the height of those vehement austerities by which the bereaved and shattered sufferer strove to appease her wretchedness by the utmost endeavour to save her husband's soul, the old foster-mother had made known to her that she might thus sacrifice another than herself. Eustacie's elastic heart had begun to revive, with all its dauntless strength of will. What to her women seemed only a fear, was to her only a hope. Frank and confiding as was her nature, however, the cruel deceptions already practiced on her by her own kindred, together with the harsh words with which the Abbess spoke of Berenger, had made her aware that no comfort must be looked for in that quarter. It was, after all, perhaps her won instinct, and the aunt's want of sympathy, that withheld her from seeking counsel of any save Perrine and her daughter, at any rate till she could communicate with the kind young Queen. To her, then, Eustacie had written, entreating that a royal mandate would recall her in time to bestow herself in some trustworthy hands, or even in her husband's won Norman castle, where his heir would be both safe and welcome. But time has passed--the whole space that she had reckoned as needful for the going and coming of her messenger--allowing for all the obstructions of winter roads--nay, he had come back; she knew letter was delivered, but answer there was none. It m
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   145   146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169  
170   171   172   173   174   175   176   177   178   179   180   181   182   183   184   185   186   187   188   189   190   191   192   193   194   >>   >|  



Top keywords:
mother
 

looked

 

Eustacie

 

husband

 

Abbess

 
Veronique
 
guiltless
 

father

 
Madame
 

Norman


delivered

 

kindred

 
deceptions
 

practiced

 
instinct
 

quarter

 
comfort
 
letter
 

Berenger

 

revive


answer

 

elastic

 

dauntless

 

confiding

 

nature

 

strength

 

castle

 

bestow

 

trustworthy

 

passed


messenger

 
allowing
 

obstructions

 

winter

 

coming

 
reckoned
 

needful

 
recall
 

daughter

 
Perrine

sacrifice
 

sympathy

 
withheld
 
seeking
 

counsel

 

entreating

 
mandate
 

written

 
communicate
 

chance