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Yonge, Charlotte Mary, 1823-1901

"The Dove in the Eagle's Nest"

Eberhard, after his
first few words, was silent, and seemed solely absorbed in leading
her safely along the rocky path, sometimes lifting her when he
thought her in danger of stumbling. It was one of the lightest,
shortest nights of the year, and a young moon added to the brightness
in open places, while in others it made the rocks and stones cast
strange elvish shadows. The distance was not entirely lost; other
Beltane fires could be seen, like beacons, on every hill, and the few
lights in the castle shone out like red fiery eyes in its heavy dark
pile of building.
Before entering, Eberhard paused, pulled off his own wedding-ring,
and put it into his bosom, and taking his bride's hand in his, did
the same for her, and bade her keep the ring till they could wear
them openly.
"Alas! then," said Christina, "you would have this secret?"
"Unless I would have to seek thee down the oubliette, my little one,"
said Eberhard "or, what might even be worse, see thee burnt on the
hillside for bewitching me with thine arts! No, indeed, my darling.


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