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“Not so!—not so! sweet Constance!” cried the Prince. “Will you not suffer me to attend you to your home?”
“I am too well known to need an escort,” she rejoined. “Nay, I am peremptory,” she added, seeing the Prince meant to accompany her. “You will not, I am sure, disoblige me. Come, Dorcas. Fare you well, Sir.”
“Adieu, sweet Constance!” exclaimed the Prince; adding, as she disappeared with her attendant, “notwithstanding your interdiction, we shall meet again.”
CHAPTER VIII.
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OF THE MURTHEROUS ATTACK MADE UPON THE PRINCE IN
THE COURT OF THE HOSPITAL.
“Considering that I have been little more than an hour in England, I have employed my time not unprofitably,” remarked the Prince, gaily.
“If your Highness was in search of an adventure, you have certainly been lucky in meeting with one,” observed Osbert. “But I presume you are now content, and disposed to go on board.”
“Presently,” replied Philip. “But I must pause for a moment to think over the interview—to recall her words, and the music of her voice. She has cast a spell upon me.”