"
"Nay, then, God have mercy!" said De Vaux. "Yet would I rather
than my best horse I had taken that watch myself. There is
mystery in it, young man, as a plain man may descry, though he
cannot see through it. Cowardice? Pshaw! No coward ever fought
as I have seen thee do. Treachery? I cannot think traitors die
in their treason so calmly. Thou hast been trained from thy post
by some deep guile--some well-devised stratagem--the cry of some
distressed maiden has caught thine ear, or the laughful look of
some merry one has taken thine eye. Never blush for it; we have
all been led aside by such gear. Come, I pray thee, make a clean
conscience of it to me, instead of the priest. Richard is
merciful when his mood is abated. Hast thou nothing to entrust
to me?"
The unfortunate knight turned his face from the kind warrior, and
answered, "NOTHING."
And De Vaux, who had exhausted his topics of persuasion, arose
and left the tent, with folded arms, and in melancholy deeper
than he thought the occasion merited--even angry with himself to
find that so simple a matter as the death of a Scottish man could
affect him so nearly.
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