'Sir,' she said, as he rose, 'I ask your pardon. I should not have
interrupted your devotions, but now is your time. My servant's
riding-dress is in a closet by the buttery hatch, his horse is in the
stable, there is no sentry in the way, for I have looked all about.
No one will return to the house for at least two hours longer; you
will have full time to escape.'
I can see the smile of sadness with which my brother looked into her
face as he thanked her, and told her that he was on his parole of
honour. At that answer she sank down into a chair, hiding her face
and weeping--weeping with such an agony of self-abandonment and grief
as rent my brother's very heart, while he stood in grievous
perplexity, unable to leave her alone in her sorrow, yet loving her
too well and truly to dare to console her. One or two broken words
made him think she feared for his life, and he made haste to assure
her that it was in no danger, since Mr. Merrycourt was assured of
bearing him safely through. She only moaned in answer, and said
presently something about living with such a sort of people as made
her forget what a cavalier's truth and honour were.
He were sorely shaken, but he thought the best and kindest mode of
helping her to recover herself would be to go on where he was in the
morning prayer, and, being just in the midst of their Litany, he told
her so, and read it aloud. She knelt with her head on the cushions
and presently sobbed out a response, growing calmer as he went on.
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