Runnymede and Lincoln Fair : $b A story of the Great CharterEdgar, John G. (John George)
History
Runnymede and Lincoln Fair : $b A story of the Great Charter
Edgar, John G. (John George)
Great Britain -- History -- John, 1199-1216 -- Fiction
“Maiden,” said he, looking earnestly into her face, “you are fighting
against fate, and against a destiny you can no more avoid than you can
the death which comes to all flesh. You struggle in vain. It is not my
wont to be baffled, as the world well knows, and will yet know better.
Loath am I to use force, but, since you make it necessary, I needs must.
Below are twenty men, who, if I said the word, would bring me the head
of the pope or the caliph. One sound of this, and they come to my aid;”
and he pointed to a silver whistle that hung at his belt.
De Moreville’s daughter, retreating behind Dame Waledger, gazed with
alarm at the citizen, but did not venture to speak. It seemed that her
stock of courage was exhausted. Fitzarnulph appeared to hesitate. After
a moment’s pause, however, he took the whistle and sounded it loudly. As
he did so, voices were heard as if in altercation below; steps as of
persons ascending, and the ring of steel on the stone stairs, succeeded;
and then there entered, not the twenty desperadoes, but Oliver Icingla,
with his spurs of gold on his heels and his trusty sword in his hand,
just as he had jumped from his good steed Ayoub.
De Moreville’s daughter uttered an exclamation of rapturous surprise,
and darted forward to throw herself on the young knight’s protection.
Fitzarnulph stood as much like an image of stone as if the heir of the
Icinglas had brought the Gorgon’s head in his hand.
CHAPTER LXI
AN OFFERING TO THE WINDS
The sudden appearance of Oliver Icingla changed the aspect of affairs so
completely that Constantine Fitzarnulph could not but curse the folly
which had placed him in a position so thoroughly perplexing as that in
which he found himself. He would have felt relieved if Oliver had burst
into one of the brief but violent rages in which, like most men of
Anglo-Saxon race, the Icingla frequently indulged. But Oliver was
perfectly calm, treated Fitzarnulph as a madman not responsible for his
actions, and with cool contempt showed the citizen the door, and
expressed a hope that his kinsfolk would take better care of him in
future.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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