Her speech became less and less
intelligible until tears and hysterical laughter reduced it to mere mouthings,
while her tiny hands beat the air with fingers bent hook-like.
But the young King did not look at her again. He had rejoined his nobles and
was leading them toward the door, giving rapid orders as he walked. "Do you,
Rothgar, see to it that the horses are saddled. Kinsman Ulf, it is my will
that you join us some while later, when you have seen these women returned in
safety. You, my chiefs, get you ready to ride to Oxford as quick as is
possible." His voice was lost in the trampling as they stepped from the turf
upon the flagging of the gallery.
When the echoing tread was gone at last from the cloister, the garden seemed
strangely silent in spite of the hurrying servants,--silent and empty. In the
stillness, it came slowly to Randalin that life was not so simple as she had
supposed; that she was not going to die of her grief but to live with
it,--live with this dead emptiness in her breast. The years seemed to stretch
before her like the snow wastes of the North,--white, white, white, without a
break of living green.
Chapter XXIV
On The Road to London
Hotter than fire
Love for five days burns
Between false friends;
But is quenched
When the sixth day comes,
And friendship is all impaired.
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