Great Britain -- History -- Henry VII, 1485-1509 -- Fiction; Historical fiction
"Ye gods of Love!" exclaimed Sir Richard beneath his breath. "The very
yearnings of Tantalus are at this moment put to the blush! Was ever a
champion avowed under like romantic circumstances? Was ever a maiden
wooed through a two-foot, key-cold wall?"
He then sent the pliant steel back through the wall, which he
erroneously supposed to be constructed out of solid stone. In another
moment there came to his impatiently waiting hand a very small cutting
of saffron velvet, the which he touched reverently to his lips, as was
becoming in a loyal champion, and then placed devoutly next his heart.
He whispered again, and again he whispered, but no answer came.
Observing the precaution of scraping away a bit of mortar from another
wall, he carefully concealed the opening. Upon which he replaced the
bed in its former position, secured the note within the fillet of his
helmet and once more sought his pillow, where he fell asleep presently
in the midst of meditating as to the means through which he might, in
safety to her, effect the deliverance of the fair unknown.
Yet not half so fair, nor yet half so lovely, was the vision that he
materialized from the scrap of saffron velvet as was its beautiful
owner, whom an unkind Fate decreed he should not set eyes upon till
many days crowded with many misadventures had passed away.
CHAPTER VI
THE PAVILION OF PURPLE AND BLACK
It was a trifle past midnight when de Claverlok and the men he had
commissioned to bring with him halted in the highroad before the door
of the Red Tavern. Coincident with their arrival the hitherto deserted
and lonely appearing hostelry was magically metamorphosed into a
hive of buzzing industry. The near vicinity of the building became
brilliantly illuminated with the flare of many links, the iron pikes of
which had been struck into the earth from the roadway to the entrance
of the inn. That the scene was one of martial activities could in no
wise be mistaken, for the yellow light of the torches was reflected
and repeated against a goodly number of steel cuirasses and polished
bucklers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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