A Monk of Fife by Andrew Lang
page 112 of 341 (32%)
page 112 of 341 (32%)
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beyond what I looked for; but surely you are deaf, for my step is heavy
enough, yet, me thinks, you heard me not." Elliot spoke no word, but drawing me very heedfully to a settle that was by the side of the room, she fled without looking behind her. "Sir," I said, as soon as she was gone, "I need make no long story--" "Faith, no!" he answered, standing back from the banner and holding his hands at each side of his eyes, regarding his work as limners do. "You twain, I doubt not, were smitten senseless by these great masterpieces, and the thought of the holy use to which they were made." "That might well have been, sir, but what we had covenanted to tell you this day we have told unwittingly, methinks, already. I could not be in your daughter's company, and have the grace of her gentle ministerings--" "But you must stand senseless before her father's paintings? Faith, you are a very grateful lad! But so it is, and I am not one of those blind folk who see not what is under their eyes. And now, what now? Well, I can tell you. You are to be healed, and follow these flags to war, and win your spurs, and much wealth by ransoms, and so make my lass your lady. Is it not so?" I was abashed by his "bourdes," and could say nought, for, being still very weak, the tears came into my eyes. Then he drew near me, limping, and put his hand on my shoulder, but very gently, saying-- "Even so be it, my son, as better may not be. 'Tis no great match, but I looked, in this country, for nothing nobler or more wealthy. That my |
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