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

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


Elfgiva's laughter was like returning sunshine. "How! You say so? Then will we
make ready without delay! Leonorine, come hither and finish clothing
me,--Dearwyn would shake too much. Lay aside your whimpering, child; the
scourging is forgiven you. Tata, I could find it in my mind to scold you for
not thinking of this before. You must mouth the order for the horses, though,"
she added as an afterthought. "I should expect it would be told me that I am a
prisoner, whereat I should weep for rage."
Another flash of daring lighted Randalin's eyes, though her mouth remained
quiet. "A good way to keep them from thinking you a prisoner, lady, is to act
like a free woman," she said. "I shall tell them that you are going to the
Palace to see your husband." Sowing her seed, she left it to take root, and
went away to convince the head of the grooms.
As she had foretold, he was too uncertain regarding their position to dare
contest their order, little as he liked it. In something less than an hour,
the five women, fur-wrapped and flanked by pages and soldiers, were riding
across the little stone bridge and up the wooded slope of the Tot Hill. In
something more than an hour after that, they were passing under the deep arch
of the New Gate into the great City itself.
"Do you purpose to visit the Palace first, noble one?" the leader of the
guards inquired with a respectful if uneasy salute.


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