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Updated: June 29, 2025
They went together through the gorgeous unnatural beauty of cactus and azalea and found Leonard Quinton, poet and romancer, with his head hanging downward off his ottoman and his red curls sweeping the ground. Into his left side was thrust the queer dagger that they had picked up in the garden, and his limp hand still rested on the hilt.
Then having risen and dressed hastily, I made my way to the room where Nell and I had talked the night before. I did not know in what mood I should find her, but I desired to see her alone and beg her to come to some truce with Mistress Quinton, lest our day's travelling should be over thorns. She was not in the room when I came there.
He tried to strike back, but his throat was gripped hard; he was suffocating. Consciousness was about to desert him, and he felt vaguely angry at this betrayal of his senses; then the light returned, and he sat up, his head swimming. A man stood between him and his late opponent. It was Quinton Edge, and the recognition was a mutual one.
"No!" thundered Ulick, roundly, for he was angered at the implied threat, and would have held his ground now out of pure stubbornness. Whereupon Quinton Edge smiled and sauntered out, adjusting the ruffles at his wrist and carrying himself as gallantly as though he had been the victor, not the vanquished, in this little contest of wills. Constans went up to Ulick and held out his hand.
Nanna, huddled up in a corner of the room whither she had been flung, answered not a word, but watched him steadily, unwinkingly, her eyes narrowed to two gleaming slits. Esmay went over and assisted her to her feet. "You will give us time to get a few things together," said the girl, turning to Quinton Edge. "A woman cannot be moved about like a piece of furniture." "Ten minutes."
He had only Quinton Edge to fear, and it should be easy to keep out of his way. Moreover, this was a golden chance for him to pick up some intimate information about the defences of the Citadel Square. Carefully adjusting the details of his ecclesiastical costume, Constans prepared to descend.
Don't spare him, Simon. Tell him why, tell him all the truth every word of it, the stark bare truth." "How shall I say it?" "Why, that you love, and have ever loved, and will ever love Mistress Barbara Quinton, and that you love not, and will never love, and have never loved, no, nor cared the price of a straw for Eleanor Gwyn." "Is that the whole truth?" said I.
Yet I was saved from making my journey alone a thing that would have occasioned me much trepidation by the arrival of my Lord Quinton. The reverence of our tender years is hard to break down, and I received my visitor with an uneasiness which was not decreased by the severity of his questions concerning my doings.
"A true forest-cat," said Quinton Edge, and smiled as he twisted a fine lawn handkerchief about the wounded member. Then, with entire good-humor: "I apologize for my incivility and truth; it were a biting rejoinder. Madam, you, too, are welcome to my poor house. With such a dragon in the garden, he will be a brave man indeed who thinks to filch my apples."
Constans, running up, was just an instant too late; he heard Quinton Edge calling the dog inside, then the sound of the closing door. By a supreme exercise of will Constans stopped short of the insanity that impelled him to thunder on the barrier and demand admittance. Yet he must gain instant entrance to the house, and he ran around the terrace to the river portico.
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