A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, KnightStrang, Herbert
History
A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Juvenile fiction
"Good now!" said I, and could not forbear smiling. "Know you, mistress,
that Hebe was no English wench, but a fair maiden of most illustrious
lineage, daughter of gods, herself a goddess, eternally young, and her
office was to bear the wine-cup of the high Olympians, and I bethink me
she was given as wife to Hercules himself."
"Oh, mock me not with your Hebes and your Hercules!" she cried in a pet.
"I wish I had not brought you drink."
"Nay, madam, for that I thank you heartily; and I shall hope to give you
a better opinion of those of whom the poets sing, after this business is
concluded."
"A long after, I fear me," she said, with a look of trouble.
"Why no; I trow we have taught them a lesson," I said.
"You English are puffed up with your own conceit," she cried scornfully.
"Think you an Irishman, and Rory Mac Shane, will be daunted by one
failure? He is reputed the best fighter of all men hereabout. But
indeed, Master Rudd"—and ’twas marvellous how sudden her mood would
change—"indeed, we talk idly, when my poor servants lie wounded. Help
me, good sir, to tend them."
"Two are past help, madam," I said gravely; "the rest have suffered
little hurt."
She flew from me to the old man slain by Rory Mac Shane, and I saw the
fair maid drop upon her knees, and breathe a prayer with moist eyes for
the poor soul departed.
There was peace and a great quietude all that afternoon, though I took
it to be that ominous calm which oft precedes a storm. Ever and anon
there came to my ears from the distant woodland the ringing of axes, and
I guessed that more ladders were to be made, and my heart sank; for with
twice the number the adversaries would be too many for us to deal with
piecemeal. But the day wore to evening, and the sun went down, and yet
there was nothing done. I had set watchmen upon the battlements, to
inform me if they saw aught; but when the country was blanketed in
darkness, and the silence was unbroken save by the croaking of frogs
about the margin of the lake, I supposed that our foes were taking their
rest, to fortify themselves against the labours of another day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account