He felt assured of her purity
and honour. Her manners, so confiding and unsuspicious, showed a heart
unacquainted with guile.
After a sleepless night Sir John arose, feverish and unrefreshed. He
threw open the window of his chamber, which looked into the courtyard.
Near a side postern stood a grey palfrey, caparisoned for a lady's use,
and impatiently awaiting its burden. The hour was too early for morning
rambles, but the beast was evidently equipped for a journey. Two other
steeds were now led forth, as if for the attendants. He caught a glimpse
of Grace Gerard's maid, who seemed, by her dress, to be of the party
whose movements he was so anxious to ascertain. He suspected this sudden
departure was for the purpose of escaping without his observance. He
hurried towards the stairs: just entering the corridor, he met Grace
Gerard. She was evidently confused at his appearance. It was but for a
moment; her spirit grappled with the occasion; and she replied firmly,
and with becoming dignity, to his questions.
"Whither away, our beauteous queen?" said he, bowing almost to the
ground. "Are you bound for some isle of the Western Ind, getting the
start of Phoebus in his nightly race to those gem-bearing climes?
Methinks the sun is departing from us, though but just risen.
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