Читать книгу Ye Lyttle Salem Maide. A Story of Witchcraft онлайн

8 страница из 52

During her description the Cavalier had nodded several times, and when she finished, his face was not good to look at. His eyes, which had been so genial, were now cold and shining as his sword.

“Have I found you at last, oh mine enemy,” he exulted, “at last, at last?”

Thus he muttered and talked to himself, and his smile was not pleasant to see. Glancing at the little maid, he perceived she was startled and shrank from him. He patted her shoulder.

“Now, hark ye, mistress,” he whispered, “when next you pass this man, say softly these words to greet his ears alone: ‘The King sends for his black powder.’”

“Perchance he will think me a witch and I say such strange words to him,” she answered, drawing away; “some say no one be more afeared o’ witches than he.”

The Cavalier flung back his head. His laughter rang out scornfully. “Ho, ho,” he mocked, “afeared of witches, lest they carry off his black heart! He be indeed a lily-livered scoundrel! Ay, care not how much you do fright him. At first he will doubtless pretend not to hear you, still I should not be surprised and he pause and demand where you heard such words, but you must say naught of all this, e’en though he torment you with much questioning. I am on my way now to Boston Town. In a few days I shall return.” He tapped her arm. “Ay, I shall return in state, in state, next time, little mistress. Meanwhile, you must keep faith with me. Let him not suspicion this meeting in the forest with me.” He bent his head and whispered several sentences in her ear.

Правообладателям