but no cry escaped her. Whereat I was much ashamed, remembering
the hullabaloo that I had raised.

I turned aside while she disrobed my lady and clothed her in clean
linen, and drew down the sheets, placing her between them. But the blood
still flowed in spite of all bandages, and the fair linen was soon
crimson.

And when all was prepared, the woman went to the door and said, "You can
enter," and the earl came into the chamber again. When, however, he did
see my lady he cried out, "God in heaven! she will bleed to death!" and
he called the woman, and showed her how to stanch the wound. Then, when
the steps of the surgeon were heard in the hall without, he said unto
her, "Remember. She is thy sister, and thieves have stabbed her for the
jewels on her neck." And she answered him, "I will remember."

And all this time methought I was in an evil dream, and that Marian, for
some spite, would not awaken me.

How it came about, to this day I recollect not, but ere two weeks had
sped we were again at Amhurste, and my lady in her own bower, under
Marian's care. As to that, Marian had been with my lady ever since the
fatal night whereon she was nigh done to death by that masked ruffian.

The earl did go himself to fetch her from Mistress Pepper's, and after
that she came neither of us saw the sloe-eyed woman any more.

None had known of my lady's stay in town, saving my lady herself, Lord
Denbeigh, the black-eyed woman (who never uttered word more, good or
bad, after that she had said, "I will remember"), Marian, and me. So
besides us five no one was the wiser.

It was towards the last of May that my lady did beg that we would lift
her out to sit in a long-chair on the east terrace. The birds were at
their morning gossiping in the shrubbery, and the air was most sweet
with the breath of the white lilacs. My lady looked like a snow-wreath
fallen suddenly among the greenery of spring, but her eyes did peep
softly, like bluebells, from the snows of her face. Methought she was
all white and blue, like the heavens above her, and her hair made
sunshine over all. Herne, the blood-hound, lay at her feet, and would
not be stirred, though for sport my lady had Marian to tempt him with
some comfits.

While we were all there, and my lady showing us how the light shined
through her thin hands, and discoursing right merrily, there came a page
and handed her a letter. Back fell she among her pillows, and her
eyelids dropped over her