He would bring them forth on the morrow, and there should be full
investigation and fair trial. And so Hereward and Martin, who both refused
stoutly to give up their arms, were marched back into the town, locked in
the little church, and left to their meditations.
Hereward sat down on the pavement and cursed the Princess. Martin
Lightfoot took off his master's corslet, and, as well as the darkness
would allow, bound up his wounds, which happily were not severe.
"Were I you," said he at last, "I should keep my curses till I saw the end
of this adventure."
"Has not the girl betrayed me shamefully?"
"Not she. I saw her warn you, as far as looks could do, not to quarrel
with the man."
"That was because she did not know me. Little she thought that I could--"
"Don't hollo till you are out of the wood. This is a night for praying
rather than boasting."
"She cannot really love that wretch," said Hereward, after a pause. "You
saw how she mocked him."
"Women are strange things, and often tease most where they love most."
"But such a misbegotten savage."
"Women are strange things, say I, and with some a big fellow is a pretty
fellow, be he uglier than seven Ironhooks. Still, just because women are
strange things, have patience, say I."
The lock creaked, and the old priest came in.
Pages:
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114