"
The princess hesitated. What meant that strange heaviness at her heart?
Was he not still her brave, true warrior, - her great white chief? Had
he not told her that he loved her? Crossing to where he stood she bowed
herself before him until her silver fillet touched his feet.
"I, too!" she whispered, "I shall go to England with thee!"
And at her words, within the little cavern there came a silence to be
felt. In undisguised dismay the Englishman gazed at her where she knelt.
Then:
"By the holyrood!" he muttered aghast, "She must have thought, - God
only knows what she must have thought!"
He glanced hurriedly toward the doorway and back again, ashamed. Then
even such impatience as was his gave way, for the moment at least, to
something more chivalric. He stooped and patted awkwardly the smooth
black head.
"Come, Wildenai, little wild rose, look up and speak to me. I must be
going!"
But still the maid lay prostrate, clasping close his rough buskins in
her little brown hands. Never in all his life had Lord Harold been so
sorely uncomfortable. How was it possible she had ever imagined that he
could take her with him, - that he had meant so much? Resentment grew
within him at the thought, yet strangely mingled always with something
far more tender.
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