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Lynde, Francis, 1856-1930

"The Master of Appleby A Novel Tale Concerning Itself in Part with the Great Struggle in the Two Carolinas; but Chiefly with the Adventures Therein of Two Gentlemen Who Loved One and the Same Lady"

Before ever this
day dawned I owed you much, but like a spiteful little hellicat you must
needs add to the score by making me a target for your wit at the
supper-table. 'Twill cost a life to more than one of them who laughed
with you, my lady, but 'twill cost you dearer still."
He came nearer as he spoke, thrusting that horrible face farther into
the circle of candle-light; but she would not draw back nor flinch a
hair, and I marked that the hand that held the candlestick was as steady
as a rock. But when he made an end she flung a quick glance over her
shoulder and my heart leaped for joy. For then I knew she was leaning
upon me.
"Once more, Captain Falconnet, will you let me pass?" she said.
"No!" he snarled, adding a horrid blasphemy. "'Twas passion in me once,
and I am none so sure there was not a time when you could have cooled it
into love. But now 'tis hatred and revenge." He snapped his fingers in
her face. "The thing they'll find here in the morning--"
He fell face downward at her feet and I set my heel in the small of his
back to hold him whilst I could drive the point of the Ferara between
his ribs. But my dear lady would not have it so.
"No, no! for the love of heaven, not that, Monsieur John!" she cried;
and for the moment her fine courage was all swallowed up of pity and she
became a compassionate woman pleading for a life.
But now my blood was up. "You are my wife," I said, coldly. "If he had a
dozen lives I should take them all for that which he said to you.


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