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Chambers, Robert W. (Robert William), 1865-1933

"The Maid-At-Arms"


And after a long time she came to me, and, raising my hands, kissed
them; and I touched her hair with dumb lips; and she stole away through
the starlight like a white ghost returning to its tomb.
And long after, long, long after, as I stood there, broke on my wrapt
ears the far stroke of horse's hoofs, nearer, nearer, until the black
bulk of the rider rose up in the night and Sir Lupus came to the porch.
"Eh! What?" he cried. "Sir George away with the Palatine rebels? Where?
Gone to Stanwix? Now Heaven have mercy on him for a madman who mixes in
this devil's brew! And he'll drown me with him, too! Dammy, they'll say
that I'm in with him. But I'm not! Curse me if I am. I'm
neutral--neither rebel nor Tory--and I'll let 'em know it, too; only
desiring quiet and peace and a fair word for all. Damnation!"
* * * * *
And so had ended that memorable day and night; and now for two whole
wretched days I had not seen Dorothy, nor heard of her save through
Ruyven, who brought us news that she lay on her bed in the dark with no
desire for company.
"There is a doctor at Johnstown," he said; "but Dorothy refuses, saying
that she is only tired and requires peace and rest. I don't like it,
Cousin George. Never have I seen her ill, nor has any one.


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