"In honour."
"You wavered?"
"There was no danger when I thought of you."
She raised her face; her mouth touched mine, then clung to it, and I breathed the sweetest breath a maid e'er drew, and all my soul grew dim and warm and faint, with her arms now around my neck, now clinging to my shoulders, and her face like a blossom crushed to mine.
Trembling in limb and body she stood up, brushing her gray eyes awake with slender fingers.
"Ah, what happiness, what happiness!" she whispered. "I am all a-quiver, and I burn to the soul of me. What strange, sweet mischief is there in your lips, Michael? Nay—do not touch me—dear, dear lad; not now—not yet."
She leaned from the open casement; in the intense stillness a voice broke out from below:
"Ready, Cardigan! The horses wait at the barn!"
As she had no cloak I wrapped her in mine, and, passing my arm around her, led her down to the porch and out across the orchard to the barn where Renard sat, mounted on his old comrade's horse.
Warlock came to my call; he nosed the little hand that Silver Heels held out, and laid his head close to hers.