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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Via Crucis"


"No," answered Gilbert. "Of course not."
And he continued to hold her fast. She made a little movement vaguely
indicating that she wished him to let her go, and her free right hand
pretended to loosen his from her waist. He felt infinitesimal lines of
fire running from his head to his feet, and he saw lights where there
were none.
"Let me go," she said, almost under her breath; and accentuating her
words with little efforts of hand and body, it accidentally happened
that her head was against his breast for a moment.
The fire grew hotter, the lights brighter, and, with the consciousness
of doing something at once terrible yet surpassingly sweet to do, he
allowed his lips to touch the dark stuff that hid her russet hair. But
she was quite unaware of this desperate deed. A moment later she seemed
to hear something, for she turned her head quickly, as if listening,
and spoke in an anxious half-whisper.
"Take care! There is somebody--"
Instantly Gilbert's hand dropped to his side and he assumed the
attitude of a respectful protector. The Queen continued to stare into
the darkness a moment longer, and then began to walk on.
"It was nothing," she said carelessly.
"I hear men singing," said Gilbert.
"I dare say," answered Eleanor, with perfect indifference. "I have
heard them for some time."
One voice rose higher and louder than the rest as the singers
approached, and the other voices joined in the rough chorus of a
Burgundy drinking-song.


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