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"Here is a missive to give to Sir Edmund Mortimer. I have commended you to him, telling him that, though young, there is not one of my squires in whom I could more implicitly trust; and that you had carried out a delicate mission for me, with rare discretion and courage.
The youth nodded. "I mout come anytime, but likely as not I'll hev ter come a-fightin' when I comes." Next, he produced an envelope. "This here is a letter I've done writ ter myself," he explained. He drew out the sheet, and read: "Samson, come back." Then he handed the missive to the girl. "Thet there is addressed ter me, in care of Mr.
O'Connor shoved a letter into Kennedy's hand, a dainty perfumed and monogrammed little missive addressed in a feminine hand. It was such a letter as comes by the thousand to the police in the course of a year; though seldom from ladies of the smart set.
He was still holding the letter in his hand, and the faint perfume was like a message from Philippa, reminding him that the missive was still unread. "I shall not be long," said Madaline. She saw that for some reason or other he wanted to be alone. "You will find me here," he returned. I shall not leave it until you return."
These strains resound so loudly through the city, that they reach the citadel. Everywhere in the streets exulting voices cry: "Courschid Pacba is deposed, and Mohammed Ali is our governor!" "I am alone viceroy here in Cairo," is the burden of a missive penned by Courschid in the citadel, and, sent down by him to the cadi and sheiks. "I alone am viceroy.
There followed an embarrassed pause. An issue was suddenly presented by the appearance of the butler bearing a letter. "A telegram, Miss," he announced. "Oh what shall I do?" cried Miss Searle. "I can't open a telegram. Cousin, help me." Searle took the missive, opened it and read aloud: "I shall be home to dinner. Keep the American." "KEEP the American!"
Then Hume spoke: "Jeff Hyde, Gaspe Toujours, Late Carscallen, and Cloud-in-the-Sky, this man, alive or dead, is between here and the Barren Grounds. He must be found for his wife's sake." He handed Jeff Hyde her letter. Jeff rubbed his fingers before he touched the delicate and perfumed missive. Its delicacy seemed to bewilder him.
He is proceeding farther and farther away from the Palace every day and he does not know how soon he will be able to seek an audience again. He writes these words with tears dropping into the ink-slab and he trusts that his words may receive the attention of the Great President. So ends this remarkable missive which has become an historic document in the archives of the Republic.
Conversation was no longer possible for her; she had a painful throbbing of the heart, and felt that her face must be playing traitor. Fortunately, Sylvia found it necessary to write a reply to the missive she had received, and her companion was soon at liberty to seek solitude. For more than an hour she remained alone.
Here, under the great escutcheon of the Vergiolesi, Cino delivered his missive. The porter took it with a bow so gracious that the poet was bold to ask whether the Lady Selvaggia was actually within. "Yes, surely, Messere," said the man, "and moreover in the kitchen with the cookmaids. For there is a cake-making on hand, and she is never far away from that business."
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