On the contrary, I am sorry he is running his head into a fever,’ said Guy, pretending to be provoking.
‘I don’t want you to be glad of that, I only want you to be glad he is not sitting here towering over us.’ Guy smiled, and began to whistle—
‘Cock up your beaver, and cock it fu’ sprush!’
CHAPTER 31
And turned the thistles of a curse
To types beneficent.
—WORDSWORTH
It was about three weeks after the rendezvous at Bellagio, that Sir Guy and Lady Morville arrived at Vicenza, on their way from Venice. They were in the midst of breakfast when Arnaud entered, saying,—
‘It was well, Sir Guy, that you changed your intention of visiting the Valtelline with Captain Morville.’
‘What! Have you heard anything of him?’
‘I fear that his temerity has caused him to suffer. I have just heard that an Englishman of your name is severely ill at Recoara.’