His companion did not at once speak, but sat in silence. "And all this," he finally said musingly—"all this toil and blood and sweat for one woman, when a score as beautiful stand at thy elbow. Truly did some wise man say, 'What fools we mortals be.'"
"Ah!" answered Dunraven, rising from his chair, "thou hast not seen the Lady Margaret Carroll. Didst thou but lay eyes upon her, thou wouldst wonder no longer, for she is the daintiest slip of mortality that ever graced this cold gray earth. Man, half London is wild over her!"
"It may be so," DeNortier replied, yawning behind his hand. "I would, for my part, prefer some less lovely maid who would be won more easily, and without all this labor."
"Tendit ad astra!" cried my lord. Then bending across the table, "Thou shouldst see this lady. Did I not fear that she would entangle that black heart of thine in her golden tresses, I would take thee in disguise with me to London, and show thee this wondrous beauty."
"No fear of that," rejoined DeNortier, a grim smile of amusement upon his countenance. "Would the lady prefer a worn old warrior, his neck resting uneasily upon his shoulders, to a noble of England, handsome, rich, accomplished?" and he drummed his fingers restlessly upon the table, his legs sprawled out before him.
"Thou flatterest me, my friend, and underratest thyself. The lady would look twice before she refused thee." And Dunraven looked at his companion.
Truly they were a striking pair as they sat together beneath the candlelight, and thou couldst have searched Europe, and not have found their match for comeliness and martial bearing. Dunraven, with his broad shoulders, his striking face, his proud pose, dark brown hair and beard; the Spaniard, more slender, but quicker, more agile, his jet-black hair and beard gleaming like the wing of a crow in the light.
They were a dangerous couple. DeNortier was the leopard, restless, cunning, lurking ready to spring at a moment's warning—not so big as his bulky companion, but with muscles of steel; Dunraven, bigger, heavier, clumsier, but more powerful—the bear. Woe to the creature that he locked in his iron arms; he would crush the life from him, even as a vise.
They both now sat silent and motionless, wrapped in their own thoughts, neither breaking the deep silence that reigned in the room.
Quick steps sounded upon the floor outside. A loud rap upon the door, and then another.