before Sir Jeoffry had held a drinking bout with a party of his boon
companions, and in the morning, when they were gathered noisily in the
courtyard to go forth hunting, the old woman appeared in their midst to
acquaint her master of the infant's birth and to bring a message from
her mistress, who begged her lord to come to her before he rode forth,
saying that she felt strangely ill, and wished greatly to see him." His
lordship paused a moment, and a shadow passed swiftly across his
countenance, brought there by a sad memory.

Young Roxholm turned towards him and waited with a speaking look for
his next words.

"Then--my lord--?" he broke forth inquiringly. Lord Dunstanwolde passed
his hand over his forehead.

"He would not go," he answered; "he would not go. He sent a ribald
message to the poor soul--cursing the child she had brought into the
world, and then he rode away. The servants say that the old woman had
left her mistress alone in her chamber and came down to eat and drink.
When she went back to her charge the fire had gone out--the room was
cold as the grave, and the poor lady lay stone dead, her head fallen
upon her wailing infant's body in such manner that, had not the child
been stronger than most new-born things and fought for its life, it
would have been smothered in its first hour."

The boy Marquess turned suddenly away and took several hurried steps up
the Long Gallery. When he returned his forehead was flushed, his eyes
sparkled with an inward fire, and his breath came quickly--but he found
no words to utter.