Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
'I think so, my lord. I am sure, at least, but for that I would not have
gone. Yet surely I mistook, for see what hath come of it,' she added,
turning to lady Margaret.
'We must not judge from one consequence where there are a thousand yet
to follow,' said his lordship. '--And thou sayest, when thou didst enter
the room thou didst find no one there?'
'I say so, my lord, and it is true.'
'That I know as well as thou. What then didst thou think of the matter?'
'I was filled with fear, my lord, when I saw the bedclothes all in a
heap on the floor, but upon reflection I hoped that he had had the
better in the struggle, and had escaped; for now at least he could do no
harm in Raglan, I thought. But when I found the door was locked,--I dare
hardly think of that, my lord; it makes me tremble yet.'
'Now, who thinkest thou in thy heart did lock the door upon thee?'
'Might it not have been Satan himself, my lord?'
'Nay, I cannot tell what might or might not be where such a one is so
plainly concerned. But I believe he was only acting in his usual
fashion, which, as a matter of course, must be his worst--I mean through
the heart and hands of some one in the house who would bring thee into
trouble.'
'I would it were the other way, my lord.'
'So would I heartily. In his own person I fear him not a whit. But hast
thou no suspicion of any one owing thee a grudge, who might be glad on
such opportunity to pay it thee with interest?'
'I must confess I have, my lord; but I beg of your lordship not to
question me on the matter further, for it reaches only to suspicion. I
know nothing, and might, if I uttered a word, be guilty of grievous
wrong. Pardon me, my lord.'
Lord Herbert looked hard at his wife. Lady Margaret dropped her head.
'Thou art right, indeed, my good cousin!' he said, turning again to
Dorothy; 'for that would be to do by another as thou sufferest so sorely
from others doing by thee. I must send my brains about and make a
discovery or two for myself. It is well I have a few days to spend at
home. And now to the first part of the business in hand. Hast thou any
special way of calling thy dog? It is a moonlit night, I believe.'
He rose and went to the window, over which hung a heavy curtain of
Flemish tapestry.
'It is a three-quarter old moon, my lord,' said Dorothy, 'and very
bright. I did use to call my dog with a whistle my mother gave me when I
was a child.'
'Canst thou lay thy hand upon it? Hast thou it with thee in Raglan?'
'I have it in my hand now, my lord.'
'What then with the moon and thy whistle, I think we shall not fail.'
'Hast lost thy wits, Ned?' said his wife. 'Or what fiend wouldst thou
raise to-night?'
'I would lay one rather,' returned lord Herbert. 'But first I would
discover this same perilous fault in the armour of my house. Is thy
genet still in thy control, Dorothy?'
'I have no reason to think otherwise, my lord. The frolicker he, the
merrier ever was I.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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