United States or Qatar ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
"I have been waiting upon this chance for years you do not understand." "Yes I understand." "All along; it was you who loved her." "But you whom she loved." "No," said Constans, sullenly. "It is true." "No!" again cried Constans. Then, suddenly, it seemed that a great light shone about him. But the wonder of it lay not in this new knowledge of Esmay's heart, but in the revelation of his own.
They made a heavy load for him to carry, but what a precious burden it was and how gladly he assumed it! For these were the keys of power. As Constans paddled out into the stream he heard the steady thumping of oars in rowlock. He shoved back into the shadow of the pier just as a great galley filled with men came foaming down the river.
John instantly matches it. "Hurrah!" he exclaims, with enthusiasm, "we are well matched, Monsieur Constans. Let it be the old story of Lafayette and Washington." "It ees glorious! Zey won ze fight. Why should not we, monsieur " "My name is Doctor John Craig from Chicago." "I greet you zen, Monsieur Doctaire. Zis is all new business to me. Tell me what to do, and I am zere."
The cavalier, gathering up his reins, called upon the fugitive to stop, but Constans, without once looking behind, ran on, actuated by the ultimate instinct of a hunted animal, zigzagging as much as he dared, and glancing from side to side for a way of escape. But none offered. On the right ran the wall of the stockade, impenetrable and unscalable, and it was a long two miles to the north gate.
Now Constans had no desire for a meeting with his ecclesiastical superior; so, without troubling himself to reply to the Knacker's hospitable invitation, he tried to edge forward and again seek concealment in the crowd. But Kurt reached out and caught his sleeve. "No skulking, reverend sir," he said, maliciously. "Which shall it be, a swig from my black-jack or a full toss of the horn?
Constans, furious at his words, had his head instantly struck off; and then, with a barbarism worthy of the times, had it flung from a catapult into the heart of the city. The ghastly trophy was brought to Romuald, who pressed it to his lips, and deeply deplored the death of his father's faithful friend. This was the last effort of the emperor.
Modern critics, however, admit that there was a prince of this name, and find proof of it in the frequent mention of him in the writings of the Welsh bards. But the Arthur of romance, according to Mr. Owen, a Welsh scholar and antiquarian, is a mythological person. Constans, king of Britain, had three sons, Moines, Ambrosius, otherwise called Uther, and Pendragon.
This Quinton Edge must have perceived, for he spoke gently, making it plain to him that this was, indeed, the maid whom they had both loved and not some disembodied shadow from the underworld. And having come finally to believe this, Constans was comforted and desired to hear the matter in full.
The morning it cannot be far distant now " Quinton Edge at the threshold held up a beckoning finger, and Constans went to him. "It is upon us," said the Doomsman. "The out-buildings are smoking already, and the lumber-yard on the north will become a furnace the instant that the first spark falls there. There is but one chance the river. You will find a boat at the dock.
The men marched along in sulky silence, for their night's rest on the open boat-deck had been an uncomfortable one, and they wanted their breakfast. Constans had determined to make use of his old quarters in the "Flat-iron" building, on the south side of the Citadel Square, and his relief was great when the last man passed within the shelter of its walls.
Word Of The Day