the third day that we raised land, dead ahead, which I
took, from my map, to be the isles of Scilly. But such a gale was
blowing that I did not dare attempt to land, and so we passed to the
north of them, skirted Land's End, and entered the English Channel.
I think that up to that moment I had never experienced such a thrill as
passed through me when I realized that I was navigating these historic
waters. The lifelong dreams that I never had dared hope to see
fulfilled were at last a reality--but under what forlorn circumstances!
Never could I return to my native land. To the end of my days I must
remain in exile. Yet even these thoughts failed to dampen my ardor.
My eyes scanned the waters. To the north I could see the rockbound
coast of Cornwall. Mine were the first American eyes to rest upon it
for more than two hundred years. In vain, I searched for some sign of
ancient commerce that, if history is to be believed, must have dotted
the bosom of the Channel with white sails and blackened the heavens
with the smoke of countless funnels, but as far as eye could reach the
tossing waters of the Channel were empty and deserted.
Toward midnight the wind and sea abated, so that shortly after dawn I
determined to make inshore in an attempt to effect a landing, for we
were sadly in need of fresh water and food.
According to my observations, we were just off Ram Head, and it was my
intention to enter Plymouth Bay and visit Plymouth. From my map it
appeared that this city lay back from the coast a short distance, and
there was another city given as Devonport, which appeared to lie at the
mouth of the river Tamar.
However, I knew that it would make little difference which city we
entered, as the English people were famed of old for their hospitality
toward visiting mariners. As we approached the mouth of the bay I
looked for the fishing craft which I expected to see emerging thus
early in the day for their labors. But even after we rounded Ram Head
and were well within the waters of the bay I saw no vessel. Neither
was there buoy nor light nor any other mark to show larger ships the
channel, and I wondered much at this.
The coast was densely overgrown, nor was any building or sign of man
apparent from the water.
Dainty sandals encased her feet, while a wimple of violet silk bordered in gold fringe, lay becomingly over her head and shoulders.Page 4
In one of the windows of the armory overlooking the garden stood a grim, gray, old man, leaning upon his folded arms, his brows drawn together in a malignant scowl, the corners of his mouth set in a stern, cold line.Page 8
" "Fetch me the bundle, hag," replied De Vac, "and you shall have gold against a final settlement; more even than we bargained for if all goes well and thou holdest thy vile tongue.Page 20
But English curs setting upon English swine.Page 36
Halting beneath this outer gate, the youth winded the horn which hung at his side in mimicry of the custom of the times.Page 37
"'S death, but he be more a king than Henry himself.Page 42
"But, Your Highness," stammered the knight.Page 51
His only remark, as.Page 62
See, I kneel to thee, my dove!" And with cracking joints the fat baron plumped down upon his marrow bones.Page 63
The old woman kept watch over her during the night and until late the following afternoon, when Peter of Colfax summoned his prisoner before him once more.Page 68
The little army was divided into ten companies of one hundred men, each company captained by a fighter of proven worth and ability.Page 70
"Ware! Sir Knight," cried the girl, as she saw the three knaves rushing to the aid of their master.Page 73
Bertrade de Montfort was but filled with wonder that she should owe her life and honor to this fierce, wild cut-throat who had sworn especial hatred against her family, because of its relationship to the house of Plantagenet.Page 94
Snatching the sword from the body of his dead antagonist, Norman of Torn rushed from the tower room.Page 101
She had felt the wild call of love and she could not understand his seeming coldness now, for she had seen no vision beyond a life of happiness within those strong arms.Page 110
Another thing, a painful thing he had learned from it, too, that the attitude of Joan de Tany, daughter of an old and noble house, was but the attitude which the Outlaw of Torn must expect from any good woman of her class; what he must expect from Bertrade de Montfort when she learned that Roger de Conde was Norman of Torn.Page 132
" "Certainly, my friend," replied Philip.Page 137
My heart went there with you, but I knew that naught but sorrow and humiliation could come to one whom the Devil of Torn loved, if that love was returned; and so I waited until you might forget the words you had spoken to Roger de Conde before I came to fulfill the promise that you should know him in his true colors.Page 139
" Norman of Torn made a wry face, for he had no stomach for hiding himself away from danger.Page 146
Before him, on her knees in the blood spattered rushes of the floor, knelt Eleanor, Queen of England, alternately chafing and kissing his hands.