“No more,” said Lord Stafford smilingly. “Thou leavest me with no regret that thou art not my son. A son could do no more.”
He kissed her and left the chamber. Francis followed after him to the courtyard of the inn where she stood watching him until he was lost to view. Then drawing her 58 cloak about her she left the yard, and walked slowly toward the eminence upon which the great castle formerly stood.
The ruins were interesting and served to entertain the girl for some time, but at length becoming weary, it occurred to her to set forth to meet her father.
“It seems long since he started,” she mused. “It cannot be a great while ere he returns. Therefore to beguile my loneliness I will go to meet him.”
Passing through the gates of the town she struck boldly into the open plain through which the road ran to Chartley. On and on she walked, the road turning and winding until at length it forked; one branch going to the left, the other to the right. Francis paused in bewilderment.
“Which shall I take?” she asked herself looking first at one and then at the other. “My faith, but either stretches forth invitingly. I have it! I will cast my dagger, and traverse that one toward which it points.”
So saying she unsheathed a small poniard from her belt and drew herself up to cast the weapon, when the clatter of horses’ hoofs 59 broke upon her ear. She looked up startled. From behind a bend in the road to the right there came at full gallop a party consisting of several men and a lady. Francis was so amazed at their sudden appearance that she still retained her position, the dagger poised ready for the throw. With a cry of horror the lady spurred her horse to her side.
“Boy,” she cried, “what art thou about to do? Stay thy hand, I command. Knowest thou not that self-destruction is forbid?”
Francis gave vent to a merry peal of laughter as the lady’s meaning flashed upon her.
“Be not dismayed, fair lady,” she said doffing her bonnet and making a deep courtesy. “I was not planning self-destruction. Life holds too much of promise to end it now. I was but wondering which of these two roads led to Chartley, and thought to follow the one toward which a throw of the dagger would point.”