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Updated: June 15, 2025
A score of hideous suggestions were raised at once, and the miserable Peter Sanghurst shook in his shoes as he saw the fierce, relentless faces of the soldiers making a ring round him. Those were cruel days, despite the softening influence of their vaunted chivalry, and the face of the Prince was stern and black. It was plain that he had been deeply roused by the story he had heard.
Give it her, and tell her when you give it that her dying lover's hope is that she will thus reward the patient, generous love of him who shall bring it to her." As he spoke these words, Sanghurst, his eyes immovably fixed upon the changing face of the beautiful girl, drew from his breast a small packet and placed it within her trembling hands.
It was no light matter to have thus plighted their troth, when Raymond was still poor and nameless, and Joan, in her father's estimation, plighted to the Sanghurst. But both possessed brave and resolute spirits, that did not shrink or falter; and joyfully happy in the security of their great love, they could afford for a time to forget the world.
Plain indeed was it that Raymond had been carried off; but whither? To England? that scarce seemed possible. It would be a daring thing indeed to bring an English subject back to his native land a prisoner. Yet where else could Peter Sanghurst carry a captive?
Surely this quest after Basildene was bringing strange things to light. Here was a miserable child to be rescued from bondage that was worse than death; and a maiden, lovely and brave of spirit, to be saved from the clutches of this same Sanghurst faction. What a strange combination of circumstances seemed woven around the lost inheritance!
Raymond and I have plighted our troth this very day. Let Peter Sanghurst do his worst; it will take a stronger hand than his to sunder love like ours!" John's pale face kindled with sympathy and satisfaction. He looked from one to the other and held out his thin hands. "My heart's wishes and blessings be with you both," he said.
Had he not heard whispers from time to time all pointing to the conclusion that Sanghurst had neither forgotten nor forgiven, and that he felt his possession of Basildene threatened by the existence of the brothers whose right it was? Had not Raymond placed himself almost under vow to win back his mother's lost inheritance?
I was fleeing from Sanghurst fleeing to France, to learn for myself if the tale he told of Raymond's death were true; for sorely did I misdoubt me if those false lips could speak truth. He guessed my purpose, followed and brought me back hither a captive. To force me to wed him has long been his resolve, and he has won my father to take his side.
He intended to make a wealthy match for her before she grew much older; but the right person had not yet appeared, and time slipped by almost unheeded. Now she found herself once again face to face with Peter Sanghurst, and realized that he was renewing, or about to renew, that hateful suit which she trusted had passed from his mind altogether.
There was but one thing that would give him the faintest hope, and that was the destruction of her faith in Raymond. Let him be proved faithless and unworthy, and her love and loyalty must of necessity receive a rude shock. Sanghurst knew the world, and knew that broken faith was the one thing a lofty-souled and pure-minded woman finds it hardest to forgive.
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