St. George and St. Michael, Volume 2MacDonald, George
History
St. George and St. Michael, Volume 2
MacDonald, George
Great Britain -- History -- Civil War, 1642-1649 -- Fiction
All eyes were turned upon the marquis. He sat motionless.
Motionless, too, as if they had been carved in stone like the
leopard and wyvern over their heads, sat all the lords and ladies,
embodying in themselves the words of the motto there graven, Mulaxe
Vel Timere Sperno. Motionless sat the ladies beneath the dais, but
their faces were troubled and pale, for Amanda was one of them, and
their imaginations were busy with what might now be befalling her.
Dorothy sat in much distress, for although she could lay no evil
intent to her own charge, she was yet the cause of the whole fearful
business. As for Scudamore, though he too was white of blee, he said
to himself, and honestly, that the devil might fly away with her and
welcome for what he cared. One woman in the crowd fainted and fell,
but uttered never a moan. The very children were hushed by the dread
that pervaded the air, and the smell of sulphur, which from a
suspicion grew to a plain presence, increased not a little the
high-wrought awe.
After about half an hour, during which expectation of something
frightful had been growing with every moment, three great knocks
came to the porch door. Mr. Moyle opened it, and in walked lord
Herbert as he had issued, with Tom Fool, in whom the importance had
now at length banished almost every sign of dread, at his heels. He
reascended the dais, bowed once more to his father, spoke a few
words to him in a tone too low to be overheard, and then turning to
the assembly, said with solemn voice and stern countenance:
'The air is clear. The sin of Raglan is purged. Every one to his
place.'
Had not Tom Fool, who had remained by the door, led the way from the
hall, it might have been doubtful when any one would venture to
stir; but, with many a deep-drawn breath and sigh of relief, they
trooped slowly out after him, until the body of the hall was empty.
In their hearts keen curiosity and vague terror contended like fire
and water.
From that hour, while Raglan stood, the face of Amanda Serafina was
no more seen within its walls. At midnight shrieks and loud wailings
were heard, but if they came from Amanda, they were her last signs.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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