Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
A black shadow went from the foot of the library tower, tearing across
the moonlight to the hall door, where it vanished. But in vain lord
Herbert kept his eyes on the fountain court, in the hope of its
reappearance there. Presently they heard a heavy plunge in the water on
the other side of the keep, and running round, saw plainly, the moat
there lying broad in the moonlight, a little black object making its way
across it. Through the obstructing floats of water-lily-leaves, it held
steadily over to the other side. There for a moment they saw the whole
body of the animal, as he scrambled out of the water up against the
steep side of the moat--when suddenly, and most unaccountably to lady
Margaret, he disappeared.
'I have it!' cried lord Herbert. 'What an ass I was not to think of it
before! Come down with me, my dove, and I will show thee. Dorothy's
Marquis hath got into the drain of the moat! He is a large dog, and
beyond a doubt that is where the young roundhead entered. Who could have
dreamed of such a thing! I had no thought it was such a size.'
Dorothy, having made the circuit, and arrived again at the brick gate,
found lord Herbert waiting there, and pulled up.
'I have seen nothing of him, my lord,' she said, as he came to her side.
'Shall I ride round once more?'
'Do, prithee, for I see thou dost enjoy it. But we have already learned
all we want to know, so far as goeth to the security of the castle.
There is but one marquis in Raglan, and he is, I believe, in the oak
parlour.'
'You saw my Marquis make his exit then, my lord?'
'My lady and I both saw him.'
'What then can have become of him?--We went very fast, and I suppose he
gave up the chase in despair.'
'Thou wilt find him the second round. But stay--I will get a horse and
go with thee.'
Dorothy went within the gate, and lord Herbert ran back to the stables.
In a few minutes he was by her side again, and together they rode around
the huge nest. The moon was glorious, with a few large white clouds
around her, like great mirrors hung up to catch and reflect her light.
The stars were few, and doubtful near the moon, but shone like diamonds
in the dark spaces between the clouds. The rugged fortress lay swathed
in the softness of the creamy light. No noise broke the stillness, save
the dull drum-beat of their horses' hoofs on the turf, or their
cymbal-clatter where they crossed a road, and the occasional shrill call
from Dorothy's whistle.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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