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Liljencrantz, Ottilie A. (Ottilia Adelina), 1876-1910

"The Ward of King Canute; a romance of the Danish conquest"


With an impatient shrug the King moved on again. "It has happened, then, that
the news has spread? I wonder whether they are troubling themselves most for
fear that I shall undertake this fight and get killed, or for fear that I
shall turn back from it and the war will be obliged to go on. And I should be
glad if I knew what expectation was uppermost in the Gainer's mind when he
made the plan. For certainly one sees his claw behind the pen."
"May wolves tear him!" Rothgar burst out. "Two kings he has used as oaten
pipes, but never did I think that you would make the third."
Canute's foot jarred upon the earth; his face was suddenly aflame. "And never
will I, while my head remains above ground! Now are you even more rash than
you are wont! It is I who play on him, not he on me. Through him, as through a
pipe, I have tempted Edmund on; and through him, as through a pipe, I have
called Edmund off; and as with a broken pipe I shall part with him when I am
done,--and think it no falseness either, since I know for certain that it is
the fate he has in store for me, as soon as I cease to be gainful for him."
The worst of the young chief's nature showed for an instant in the smile that
widened his nostrils. Then it gave way to another flash of temper. "Nor am I a
pipe for your plaything, either. What! Am I to be as a child between you and
Thorkel, that each time I follow the advice of one of you, I am to get a
tongue-lashing from the other? Have you not got it into your head that I am
your King?"
Rothgar gave a short laugh.


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