"Say you so!" returned De Boteler. "I should like to see this boasted beauty, even if it were to convince me of your taste in these matters. Calverley, order one of the varlets to go to Holgrave, and desire him to come to the castle directly—and, mind you, he brings his wife with him."
Calverley could scarcely repress a smile of exultation as the baron delivered this command, but composing his countenance to its general calm expression, he bowed to De Boteler, and immediately withdrew.
Holgrave, when the henchman delivered the baron's command, hesitated, and looked angrily to Margaret.
"What ails thee, my son," asked Edith. "Is she not thy wife?—and can the baron break asunder the bonds that bind ye?—or dost thou fear that Margaret's face may please him—and that he would strive to take from the man who saved his life in the battle, the wife of his bosom! Shame! shame!"
"No, no, mother," returned Holgrave, musing; "yet I would rather she should not go to the castle—I have seen more of the baron than you: and, besides, this Calverley——"
Holgrave, however, considering it better not to irritate the baron by a refusal, at length consented that Margaret should accompany him, and they quitted the cottage together.
"Come hither, Holgrave," said De Boteler, as Holgrave entered. "Is this your wife?"
"Yes, my lord," replied the yeoman, with a humble reverence.
"Look up, pretty one," said De Boteler to Margaret!—"Now, by my faith Holgrave, I commend your choice. I wonder not that such a prize was contended for. Margaret,—I believe that is your name? Look up! and tell me in what secret place you grew into such beauty?"
Margaret raised her bright blue eyes, that had been as yet hidden by the long dark lashes, and the downcast lids; but, meeting the bold fixed gaze of the baron, they were instantly withdrawn, and the deep blush of one unaccustomed to the eyes of strangers, suffused her cheek and brow, and even her neck.