He paused in his rapid walk, and stood as if rooted to the spot, making
no move toward her.
For a moment, Mora hesitated.
"_Do it now!_" sang the thrush.
CHAPTER XLVI
"HOW SHALL I LET THEE GO?"
Mora passed swiftly into the banqueting hall.
"Hugh," she said, and came to him. "Hugh, my husband, this is our
bridal day. Will you take me to our home?"
His eyes, as they met hers, were full of a dumb misery.
Then a fierce light of passion, a look of wild recklessness, flashed
into them. He raised his arms, to catch her to him; then let them fall
again, glancing to right and left, as if seeking some way of escape.
But, seeing the amazement on her face, he mastered, by a mighty effort,
his emotion, and spoke with calmness and careful deliberation.
"Alas, Mora," he said, "it is a hard fate indeed for me on this day, of
all days, to be compelled to leave thee. But in the early morn there
came a letter which obliges me, without delay, to ride south, in order
to settle a matter of extreme importance. I trust not to be gone
longer than nine days. You, being safely established in your own home,
amongst your own people, I can leave without anxious fears. Moreover,
Martin Goodfellow will remain here representing me, and will in all
things do your bidding."
"From whom is this letter, Hugh, which takes you from me, on such a
day?"
"It is from a man well known to me, dwelling in a city four days'
journey from here.
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