The Duke could not forbear smiling.
"'Twas a deed of true Christian charity, and most deftly managed!" said he. "But yet it might make matters worse were it known. Tell me, does this old dame go to confession?"
"No, your Grace. She is not able to walk the length of the gallery. Her strength is greatly failed of late, and I think not she will live long."
"And does any priest have access to her?"
"No one, as I think, but my cousin Walter, your Grace's chaplain," (for Walter had been promoted to this place some time since, and had preached in the chapel more than once.) "Walter has prayed with her two or three times, so she has told me, for I see not as much of her, now that I live in my Lady Frances's apartment."
"That may be safe enough!" said he, pulling his beard as was his wont when he was thoughtful. "Hawks will not pick out hawks' eyes, as they say on the Border. Well, Mistress Corbet, I believe you are safe for the present, but I would have you keep your chamber this day. Your mistress will excuse your attendance, and—"
His words received a disagreeable interruption. The house had been finished in some haste, and more than once small pieces of plaster had fallen from the ceiling. Now, casting my eyes upward, I saw that directly over where the Duchess was sitting in a low chair, a great portion of the ceiling was parting, and even at that moment falling. There was no time to think. I sprang upon her, pulling her to the floor, and threw myself over her.
At the very moment, I felt a heavy blow on my shoulders and head, and knew no more till I heard a familiar voice say, in a tone of utmost anguish:
"Loveday, Loveday—my darling, for my sake, look up!"
Then I opened mine eyes, and saw my kinsman standing over me, a lancet in his hand, while the blood was streaming from my arm. There were others about me, but I saw no one else.