Idonia: A Romance of Old LondonWallis, Arthur Frederick
History
Idonia: A Romance of Old London
Wallis, Arthur Frederick
Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction
"You owe somewhat elsewhere," said I, "and that is amends to this lady
for your discourtesy," and as I spoke I looked across to where she
stood in the hall, a distance off from us twain, by the foot of the
great stair. A light from some lamp, hung aloft out of sight, diffused
itself about her, so that she stood clear from the obscurity which
wrapped all else; and by that light I knew her for the maid I sought,
and would thank, and did already supremely love. The light falling
directly from above lay upon her hair and seemed to burn there, so
splendid a shining did it make. Of her face and body, the most of
which was dim in shadow, I could yet discern the exceeding grace and
lithe bearing. Her hands were outspread in terror for our clamorous
intrusion, and I thought by her swaying she was about to swoon. But
small leisure had I to proffer service, or indeed to do aught but
return to my guard, which I resumed none too soon, for the tall man had
drawn his great sword already and now caught up a piece of sailcloth
from the rummage about the hall, wrapping it about his injured arm.
"So it would seem you know her, too, Mr. Denis," he let slip in a voice
of some wonder, and I thought paused upon the question how we were
become acquainted.
"Have a care!" I cried, and so thrust at him without further parley.
He caught the blow easily enough on his blade, turning it aside.
"Country play!" he muttered, and was content to let me recover myself
ere he took me in hand. However, I had the good luck to drive him a
pace or two backward, amidst the stuff that lay there about, bales and
cordage and the like, which hampered him not a little, though for the
rest I could not touch him; whereas he did me whenever he listed, but
so far without great harm. Yet notwithstanding his disdainful
clemency, or rather because of it, I lost all sense of the odds we
matched at, and laid about me with increasing fury, so that, for all he
was so expert and cool a swordsman, I kept him continually busy at the
fence and sometimes put him to more art than he would have wished to
use, in order to defend himself from my assaults.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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