Читать книгу Jane Seton; or, The King's Advocate. A Scottish Historical Romance онлайн
137 страница из 151
The whole place was then quite solitary enough for such a meeting, though now the site of the pond, the tennis court, and even the hill itself, are covered with houses.
Roland's anger was somewhat increased by perceiving that his adversary was already on the ground, and whiling away the time by skimming flat stones across the pond.
"Ah! thou villanous Hamilton," thought he, "how I long to be at thee! My sword is like a razor, my wrist is like steel, this morning, and I will curry thee in such fashion, that thou shalt tremble at the name of Jane Seton or a salve-pot ever after."
"God be with you, Sir Roland; you have not kept me waiting long," said Kincavil, bowing with cold politeness.
"I am glad of it."
"You have been at mass this morning with the king, I think?"
"No, faith!" said Roland, knitting his brows as he thought of the hawking party. "I feared there would be no room for me among so many Hamiltons, panders, and parasites."
"Then I hope you said prayers at home," replied Kincavil, whose eyes flashed as he unsheathed his sword.