Diccon was an ingenious scoundrel. I had told him to banish the
dogs, to have the house cleaned and lit, and supper upon the table;
but I had not ordered the floor to be strewn with rushes, the walls
draped with flowering vines, a great jar filled with sunflowers, and
an illumination of a dozen torches. Nevertheless, it looked well,
and I highly approved the capon and maize cakes, the venison
pasty and ale, with which the table was set. Through the open
doors of the two other rooms were to be seen more rushes, more
flowers, and more lights.
To the larger of these rooms I now led the way, deposited her
bundle upon the settle, and saw that Diccon had provided fair
water for her face and hands; which done, I told her that supper
waited upon her convenience, and went back to the great room.
She was long in coming, so long that I grew impatient and went to
call her. The door was ajar, and so I saw her, kneeling in the
middle of the floor, her head thrown back, her hands raised and
clasped, on her face terror and anguish of spirit written so large
that I started to see it. I stared in amazement, and, had I followed
my first impulse, would have gone to her, as I would have gone to
any other creature in so dire distress. On second thoughts, I went
noiselessly back to my station in the great room. She had not seen
me, I was sure.
Pages:
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56