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Updated: May 31, 2025
The old butler bowed, and ambled from the room, and for a long while Siward sat sullenly listening and scoring the edges of the paper with his trembling pencil. Then the lead broke short, and he flung it from him and pulled the bell. Wands came this time, a lank, sandy, silent man, grown gray as a rat in the service of the Siwards.
And she clung to him so madly, that Hereward, as he held her in his arms, and gazed on her extraordinary beauty, forgot Torfrida for the second time. But there was no time to indulge in evil thoughts, even had any crossed his mind. He caught her in his arms, and commanding the maid to follow, hurried down the stair. Winter and the Siwards were defending the foot with swinging blades.
The old man hesitated, looking down, then still looking away from Fleetwood: "Bravely, sir, bravely, Mr. Fleetwood." "The Siwards were always that," said the young man gently. "Yes, sir. Thank you. Mr. Stephen Mr. Siward," he corrected, quaintly, "is indisposed, sir. It was a a great shock to us all, sir!"
The dim light touched the prisms of a crystal chandelier dulled by age, and edged the carved foliations of the marble mantel, above which loomed a tarnished mirror reflecting darkness. Fleetwood rose, drew a window-shade higher, and nodded toward several pictures; and Plank moved slowly from one to another, peering up at the dead Siwards in their crackled varnish.
Would you mate what she inherits from her mother and her mother's mother, with what is that poor boy's heritage from the Siwards?" "After all," observed Ferrall dryly, "we're not in the angel-breeding business." "We ought to be. Every decent person ought to be. If they were, inherited vice would be as rare in this country as smallpox!" "People don't inherit smallpox, dear." "Never mind!
But neither Sigtryg nor Hereward drank; and the two Siwards stood behind their young uncle's seat, watching him with that intense admiration which lads can feel for a young man. That night, when the warriors were asleep, Sigtryg and Hereward talked out their plans.
The mark of the master-vice was there; its stamp in the swollen, worn-out hollows; its imprint in the fine lines at the corners of his mouth; its sign manual in the faintest relaxation of the under lip, which had not yet become a looseness. For the last of the Siwards had at last stepped into the highway which his doomed forebears had travelled before him. "Gumble!" he called irritably.
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