University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Pelayo

a story of the Goth
  
collapse section 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

collapse section1. 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
 5. 
 6. 
 7. 
 8. 
 9. 
 10. 
 11. 
 12. 
 13. 
 14. 
 15. 
 16. 
 17. 
 18. 
 19. 
 20. 
 21. 
 22. 
 23. 
 24. 
 25. 
collapse section2. 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
 4. 
 5. 
 6. 
 7. 
 8. 
 9. 
 10. 
 11. 
 12. 
 13. 
 14. 
 15. 
 16. 
 17. 
 18. 
 19. 
 20. 
 21. 
 22. 
XXII.
 23. 
 24. 
 25. 
 26. 
 27. 
 28. 
 29. 

22. XXII.

Amri descended at once to meet the spy.

“Well—hast thou seen aught, Mahlon?” he asked
of the slave.

“They have gone forth, Amri—the old man and the
page.”

“Ha! on what course?”

“The old man to the house of the Father Samuel.”

“And—the boy?”

“Him I followed close, even to the Gate of the Tribune—”

“And there—”

“My comrade Barzai still watches him there. He
saunters by the gate.”

“'Tis well,—thou shalt wait here to guide my steps.
I'll be with thee again immediately.”

He returned to the chamber where sat Edacer and
Urraca.

“I must leave thee,” were his brief words. “Pardon
me, Lady Urraca, that I fly from thee so soon,—but
the Lord Edacer will answer for me that I go on a
most serious business.”

“What business is't, Edacer?” demanded Urraca.

“Is't of Melchior?—hearest thou aught of him?”
was the inquiry which Edacer proposed to Amri, as
they stood apart.

“It is—Mahlon has tracked the page that waits on
him. I must pursue and follow up the track. Bid thy
two followers with me, Lord Edacer. They wear thy


195

Page 195
badge,—none will dispute their progress,—and we shall
get the page in custody. The game is then our own.”

“Sayest thou? It shall be so. Go you below and
tutor them a while. I'll speak to Urraca. She shall be
satisfied.”

They turned to the lady, and her glance was fixed
upon the countenance of Amri.

“Must he go? And is it thy business, Edacer?”
she demanded.

“It is, fair lady,—give him thy leave of absence.
The toil is heavy,—'tis for me he toils—but he will
soon return to thee.”

“Amri,” she simply spoke his name. He approached
her. She whispered him,

“I will not take thy jewels. It would seem as if I
sold to thee my love for them. Had I believed thee
true, I would have worn them in pride and pleasure,—
still misdoubting thee, I cannot take them. Give
them elsewhere. I will not chide that thou shouldst
thus requite some other for the love she gives to thee.
My love thou buyest with love—or not at all! Give
them to her!”

“There is no other, dearest Urraca.”

“Well, as thou sayest it. Thou art free to go.
But take the jewels hence.”