"
"Let them gaze then on one whom they shall never see more," said
Halbert, once more turning from her, and rushing out of the court-yard
without again looking back.
Mary Avenel gave a faint scream, and clasped both her hands firmly on
her forehead and eyes. She had been a minute in this attitude, when
she was thus greeted by a voice from behind: "Generously done, my most
clement Discretion, to hide those brilliant eyes from the far inferior
beams which even now begin to gild the eastern horizon--Certes, peril
there were that Phoebus, outshone in splendour, might in very
shamefacedness turn back his ear, and rather leave the world in
darkness, than incur the disgrace of such an encounter--Credit me,
lovely Discretion--"
But as Sir Piercie Shafton (the reader will readily set down these
flowers of eloquence to the proper owner) attempted to take Mary
Avenel's hand, in order to proceed in his speech, she shook him
abruptly off, and regarding him with an eye which evinced terror and
agitation, rushed past him into the tower.
The knight stood looking after her with a countenance in which
contempt was strongly mingled with mortification. "By my knighthood!"
he ejaculated, "I have thrown away upon this rude rustic Phidel? a
speech, which the proudest beauty at the court of Felicia (so let me
call the Elysium from which I am banished!) might have termed the very
matins of Cupid.
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