"Little do I care, Candida, to tell it
truthfully. Nothing can be worse than sitting in that Abbey. Here at least
there is a chance that something may happen to help us to forget that we are
alive."
Candida shook the cloak she had grasped. "But you expect that he will be
angry! You told Elfgiva not to undertake the journey because of it. And you
were able to say the soothest about his temper."
"I was obliged to tell her that to be honest," Randalin answered, and again
there was a little wildness in her laugh, "but I should have gone stone-mad if
she had not come." Yet, as her horse commenced to bear her forward once more,
she consented to speak more encouragingly across the widening space. "If his
humor is right, it may be that nothing disagreeable will happen. She is very
fair to look at,--it may be that his mind will change at the sight of her.
Think that you will sleep in the Palace to-night."
Catching this last phrase, as her Valkyria came abreast of her, Elfgiva spoke
pettishly: "You see fit to sing a different tune from what you did when you
tried to hinder me from this undertaking. I should have brighter hopes if I
had not given ear to your advice to send a messenger ahead. If I could have
come upon him before he had time to work himself into a hostile temper--"
Her attention wandered as a couple of tipsy soldiers elbowed themselves
between the guards only to catch a nearer glimpse of her face, after which
they allowed themselves to be thrust back, shouting drunken toasts to her
beauty.
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