Lady Evelyn — page 103: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

O60 rey. tn the hens Canin. dunderhead that I am, I never suspected it, even HED [ heard of Warbeck Hall! Is it fate, and am | to play Benedict, the Married Man, willy- -nilly? My faith! I might seek the world over and never find so fair a Bea- trice !”’ Ouite heedless, in his are surprise, of the pouring rain, he walked back to the tent. She stood where he had left her, gazing out at the leaping lightning, the slanting stréams, the black sky; and in the primitive door-way, steadfastly regarding her, stood the gypsy, Redempta—a vivid contrast. “You have suffered in my service, Sir Knight,” she said, with her brilliant smile. “My whip was not worth _ your drenching.” } “It is worth a hundred drenching’s, senorita,” he said, presenting it to her with a courtly bow, “since it has told me whom! have the honor of serving. ‘They talk of en- tertaining angels unawares—my case precisely. May [I recall an old acquaintance to Lady Evelyn Desmond’s memory, or have seven years completely obliterated even the name of Vivian Trevannance from her recollection?” She looked at him and held out her hand with frank erace, the beautiful, gravely smrling mouth indescribably sweet and gentle. “Do me justice, senor; my memory is better than your own, since | knew you at once the first instant we met. Seven years is a tolerable time, but it has not changed Mr. Trevannance in the least. Since when have you re- turned? Wethought you in France?” “I was but on my homeward way when I became the debtor of a most happy chance. And now, presuming on old acquaintance, may I ask how I came to find you alone, and in peril from that insolent beggar?” “By my own caprice, which I have to thank for all the mishaps of my liie. We went this afternoon to visit some very romantic Druidical ruins, and on our home-— ward way | separated from the rest of our party, and be- fore I knew it found myself hopelessly lost and bewil- dered. ‘The storm was breaking; the brigand sprang out and seized my horse; and as all knights-errant should you rode to the rescue at the very instant when I ae you most. It is like a scene in ‘Don Suite or ‘Amadis de Gaul.’ ”’ iy comicbooks.co