Текст книги "Enemy of My Enemy"
Автор книги: Carm Nicosi
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Chapter 8
It was the beginning of December, and Brant was getting really frustrated. He still had not found any trace of his sister's whereabouts. He had questioned Peggy, who denied any knowledge, of what could have happened to the girl. He did not believe her denials of involvement, and was having her Castle watched for anything suspicious, but so far, there had been nothing. Inquiries to the villages near Peggy's, had not turned up any sightings of Esme, either. Furthermore, he frequently found himself thinking about Alisa, and wondering what had happened to the girl. There was no doubt, the young serf had gotten to him, he missed her terribly. He had taught her well, and now she was who knew where, likely entertaining some one else. The thought of her with another, bothered him, badly. He had wanted to keep her all to himself, which, part of his mind told him made no sense. Alisa had changed him somehow, in the few months he had been held prisoner. Now Cora, the serf who had been his favorite tart here for years, seemed brash, and lewd, even a little repulsive. He was finding himself very short tempered, and had yelled at several serfs. Everyone seemed to be scurrying out of his way, and that was irritating him, too. Always before, he had been very comfortable here, now his home, seemed empty and lonely. Brant found a good amount of his time, was spent wondering where Esme, and Alisa, were. The later, seemed to cross his mind most often.
The only slightly bright spot, was musing about what Isabel thought, of where he had sent her. It was quite out of the way, and with his people closely monitoring her, hopefully, not much better than his prison. They had said she would reach her majority, in June. In six months, he would see if someone came, to relieve him of her care.
"Riders approaching," Brant heard the sentry announce.
A short while later, Robert and Kate entered the hall, with several other knights. Brant greeted the guests, but largely shied away from, participating in the ensuing conversation. Robert tried several times, to get him talking about one of many battles they had been in, or his youthful misdeeds, unsuccessfully. Finally, he pulled Brant aside, and confronted him.
"What is wrong with you, Brant?" Robert asked. "Everyone says you are grouching, and yelling at everybody. I hear you even yelled at Cora. You always use to find that tart amusing. Although, I never could see why you liked her."
Brant considered his friend's question carefully, before answering truthfully. That he was finding his home to be lonely, and empty. He was frustrated, that there was no word about Esme, despite the large number of people who were looking for leads.
"As for Cora, well she just seems so obscene, after Alisa," Brant replied.
"Who is this Alisa?" Robert asked, recalling Brant had looked for her, at Isabel's Castle.
"While I was being held prisoner, I was frequently visited by a young serf. She kept me from going totally mad. I grew quite fond of her, but when I was released, someone, probably Isabel, had made the girl disappear," Brant said.
"Someone gave you a serf, for your amusement, while you were being held prisoner, by your wife?" Robert questioned, incredulously. "That does not seem like, something Isabel would do. I can ask Richard, if he knows anything about the girl, if you want me to."
"That would likely to be a waste of time," Brant said, dismissing the offer. "She was just a serf, but very different from Cora. More importantly, I can find no trace of Esme. I do not know where she is, who may have her, or even if she is still alive. That is what troubles me most. There has been no demand for anything, in exchange for her return."
Brant did not say that both situations, Esme and Alisa, were a constant reminder of the deep sense of gloom, and helplessness, that had plagued him, during his many days of captivity. He was a knight who had faced death many times without fear, yet, he had known fear, while being held, isolated in that damned cell. His life had been totally in someone else's control. They could have held him indefinitely, until he went stark raving mad.
"Well, you can not allow yourself to give up hope, Brant," Robert said. "There is still reason to think, someone may have her, as long as she has not been found dead. In the mean time, come, can't you try to enjoy the distraction of some company?"
Brant nodded in the affirmative, before the two rejoined the others.
Robert and Kate, had been there for several days, when a messenger arrived, with word from those watching Peggy. The Lady had been observed going to the postern gate, in the middle of the night, where she had met a man. The lookout nearby, believed he had heard the Lady saying, “Tell him he had better come to see me. I want to see my daughter, or I am going to tell Brant”.
Brant determined that he would be riding back with the messenger, to wait for ‘him’, to show up. Although, the early winter weather was not all that inviting, it was a relief, to finally, have some lead on Esme. He was not going to take any chance that this lead might get away. Could he finally, be close to finding his younger sister?
Robert insisted on going along, and with Brant’s mood somewhat lightened, he teased, “You would think with the new bride, you could find better things to do, than sit outside in the cold, waiting to hopefully catch a rat, Robert.”
“You would think, but the bride is with child, and suffering an inclination to wretch at will,” Robert replied, with a laugh.
Brant joined in with his friend's laughter, as the two men left the hall, to get their destries saddled for the ride.
Brant and Robert, had been biding their time, for nearly two days, waiting for any sign of Peggy’s mystery man, in a wooded area, from which they could see the postern door. There were men inside the Castle, who were loyal to Brant, also. He paid their wages, as Peggy could not be bothered, with managing her own property. The weather was quite unpleasant, however getting any information about Esme, was worth the discomfort to Brant. Robert was equally determined to wait this out, because he felt somewhat responsible, for the girl’s plight. Brant might not have allowed Esme to go to her mother's, if he had been at home, rather than a prisoner.
It was quite late at night, when the faint sound of muffled huff beats, alerted them to the approach of two men, who were walking their horses. Near the edge of the woods, one man handed his mount’s reigns to the other, before moving forward, toward the fortress wall. Brant signaled to a couple of the men with him, to move around behind the lone figure, with the horses. The others remained out of sight, until he was quietly, subdued. By that time, the postern gate was opened, and the other man had slipped inside.
Brant, Robert, and their men, ran toward the gate, to block the culprit inside. They had covered most of the approximately two hundred feet, when torches flared inside the castle wall. The mystery man pulled the gate open, to attempt an escape, but seeing his path blocked, he retreated back inside. Drawing his sword, Brant followed him in, cornering him inside the curtain wall.
In the well lighted inner bailey, Brant easily recognized Avery.
“You betrayed me to him,” Avery angrily accused Peggy.
“Nay I did not. I would not. I love you. I just wanted to see my daughter," Peggy shouted.
"He is here, waiting for me. You helped him trap me, you witch," Avery shouted back.
"You promised if I helped you, you would kill him. There he is, kill him,” Peggy yelled, giving Avery a small push toward Brant.
“Shut-up, you stupid slut,” Avery shouted, outraged by her damning comments. "You disgust me."
"I have done everything I could to help you. Where is Esme? You promised you would keep her safe. What have you done with her?" Peggy yelled, in rising hysteria.
“Shut up! I say,” Avery yelled back.
In desperation, to stop her from divulging all she had done to aid him, Avery slashed at her with his drawn sword, cutting a long gash in her neck. The men surrounding them stood frozen in shock, watching as Peggy slowly crumbled to the ground, with blood gushing from the mortal wound.
While the others around him, stood transfixed in horror as Peggy drew her last rasping breaths, Avery turned his rage toward Brant. He swung his sword wildly, as he advanced on his enemy. All the while, continuing his tirade, now aimed Brant.
“She was supposed to be loyal to me, and to help me kill you,” Avery shouted.
With that, he took an enraged hack at Brant’s head, which was easily deflected. There was no way out of this, Avery knew. He would either be killed, or imprisoned. But it would be satisfying, to take his enemy to the grave, with him.
"He was supposed to be on my side, and help me best you," Avery yelled, continuing his verbal assault. “He double-crossed me, and took your damned sister."
In his anger, Avery was leaving himself exposed to Brant’s sword. He could easily have eliminated his enemy. However, he wanted information out of the man. Avery lowered his sword to hack at Brant’s leg. Brant quickly blocked the swing.
“Who took her from you?” Brant asked his furious opponent.
“He told me he sent your sister home to you,” Avery replied, with a bitter laugh. “It looks like he crossed you, too.”
In the background, a child began screaming “mama”, as she tried to run to her mother’s lifeless body.
Avery laughed, in disgust, “Peggy always wanted me to claim that little bastard.”
The disclosure that he was Hannah’s sire was telling for Brant. He always suspected that Peggy was involved in the ambush on his father. He had been certain that Avery or his sire, actually perpetrated the crime. Now Brant knew his suspicions were correct.
Avery took several more incautious hacks at Brant, leaving his torso exposed. He was trying to merely defend, against Avery's aggression, to keep him talking. However, after a few minutes, Brant noticed that Avery seemed to be calming down. He was becoming more focused, on trying to do injury to his opponent. Brant was forced to swing his sword in offense, attempting to injure his angry enemy.
Avery turned, and lunged forward, at about the same time, yelling, “Damn your whole family to hell.”
Unable to quickly alter the direction of the heavy weapon, Brant’s sword plunged deep into Avery’s chest, and he froze in mid motion. His sword dropped to the ground, and Avery slowly sank to his knees, before finally falling sideways, to lay prostrate on the cobbles. Seeing his enemy collapse, Brant moved to his side.
“Who took Esme?” Brant demanded. "Who betrayed you and took Esme? Who?"
But the only sound was the child still screaming “mama.” Avery was dead.
Realizing his enemy would not be answering, Brant rose, wiping the blood from his sword, before sheathing it. He turned to where one of his men, was restraining the screaming child, with one arm around her waist.
“Robert, take a couple of men out, to get the man who was with the horses,” Brant said, offhandedly. Then, he picked up the child, and walked to the hall, consoling her with, “I am Esme’s brother, Brant. She has told me a lot about you. Esme likes to visit you, very much. Do you know that, Hannah?”
By the time Robert entered the hall, Hannah was curled up in Brant's arms, sniffling weakly. The serf who normally helped care for the little girl, could not be found. She, like most of the other serfs, were either hiding, or had slept through, the horrific events of the night. An old woman, who was filling tankards of ale, for the knights who had entered the hall, seemed to be the only one about.
Robert informed Brant, "The one in the woods, is just a youth, and they knocked him out cold."
Within minutes, several men entered, carrying the unconscious young man. He was laid on the stone floor, before a bucket of water was dumped on him, to revive him. However, that proved to be a fruitless effort.
As he came to, the youth sat up quickly, coughing on water he had inhaled. His eyes widened in fright, as he looked at the strange men who surrounded him.
Brant said, “We know you came here with Avery. He is dead. If you do not want to meet a similar fate, you would be wise to tell me where Esme is.”
“I do not know,” the youth said, trembling in fear. “Avery said someone took the girl from ‘im. He was coming ‘ere to see what some Lady knew. He said ‘er name was Peggy.”
“I know Avery kidnapped Esme. She has not been seen since,” Brant said. “I know he had her. Do not lie to me.”
“I swear Yer Lordship, Avery was real mad cause someone ‘e thought was helping him, double-crossed ‘im,” the youth replied. “Then, when the Lady sent ‘im a message, he was not sure what to think. Avery was told the girl was sent home to ‘er brother. So Avery came ‘ere, trying to figure out what was going on. If the girl was not home, he thought mayhap ‘e could go ahead with ‘is plan, even if he did not have ‘er. He figured if the girl was home, Peggy would be in trouble, and could not contact ‘im.”
Knowing he had hit another dead end, Brant suggested that everyone try to get some sleep. In the morning, they would have to bury the dead, before traveling back to his Castle. Then, he asked the serf to show him to a room, where he could get some rest. As Brant followed her up the stairs, he told the serf, he would be taking the child, Hannah, who was now sleeping restlessly in his arms, home with him.
Chapter 9
Isabel sat on the window seat, of the tower room, that had been pretty much her prison, since her arrival here, over five months ago. Not that they made her stay in this room. It was just that the moment she left her bedchamber, the serf, Hester was at her side. Isabel and Rosamund could not even have a private conversation, outside of this room. The woman was obviously, one of Brant's trusted spies, carefully monitoring everything Isabel did. Although, if Hester’s intent was to spy, she apparently was not reporting back to him, or Isabel would have seen Brant by now.
She felt the babe kick. The child appeared to be growing strong, and healthy. Now in her seventh month, the babe's movements were getting uncomfortable. It was the end of January, and would likely be another six or eight weeks, early in March, when he, Isabel hoped, was born.
Isabel thought back to the day, she had waited to speak to Brant, after he was released from her dungeon. Instead, he had sent his men to escort, or confine, her here. She had left with them, feeling both a sense of relief, and despair. That had turned mostly to despair, when she saw their destination. From her tower window, she had a direct view of the gate towers, in the high stone wall. There were actually, two wooden gates. One on the inside, and one on the outside, of the gate towers. The passage through it, was lined with slots, to allow archers to defend against anyone, who got past the outer gate.
Outside the stone curtain wall, was the outer bailey. That area appeared to be used for gardens, and possibly grazing some livestock. It was surrounded on three sides, by an earthen wall, any attackers would need to climb over, exposing themselves to the archers. The fourth side, was on a rock cliff, Isabel had been told. Clearly, the Castle had been constructed to carefully control, who got in, and who got out.
She had assured Richard, that Brant would not harm her, but she had not really been confident that he would not, in anger, do some harm to the babe. Regardless, she felt he needed to know the truth. Isabel recalled asking, for weeks, if Brant would be coming here, before they told her. His instructions were to see she was safe, and see that he did not hear anything about her. So, while Harold and Hester were keeping close tabs on her every movement, they were not telling him anything.
Isabel knew that if Brant had been told of her condition, he would have been here for an explanation. She recalled his declaration, on their wedding night, "I'll not bed the child". However, Isabel knew that she needed an heir. Her only sibling, a brother, had died in childhood, and her father was an only child. Without an heir, her father's holdings, now hers, would pass to Avery, a distant relative. If Brant were honest, he needed an heir, too. Although, right now she was so big, and awkward, she prayed that her husband would continue to stay away, a while longer. Actually, if her husband’s people honored his orders to them, mayhap, it would be better, if he never knew about the babe.
It was Merchant's Day, the day when the merchants from the village, came to the Castle, to hawk their wares. Isabel did not care what her shadow Hester had to say, she and Rosamund, would be going down to see the gypsy fortune teller. That was why she was sitting here in the window, waiting for the gypsy to arrive.
When the time came, Isabel and Rosamund exited the bedchamber. In the passageway, they were immediately joined by Hester. Her jailor questioned the safety of her going out, in her condition, on a cold winter day.
Isabel sweetly responded, "I really feel that I need to get a little fresh air, and exercise. Sitting around indoors all of the time, has me feeling like a prisoner. Besides, I want to see the gypsy fortune teller. It is always such a lark, to see if I am going to meet a dark, mysterious man."
Isabel laughed happily, at the frowning serf, as she continued on about her way. Once in the courtyard, the women walked among the seller’s carts. Isabel stopped occasionally, to examine this item, or that, until she reached the gypsy.
"Would ye like yer fortune today, Me Lady?" the gypsy asked.
"Aye," Isabel answered.
She held out her hand, and the woman grasped it. She ran a finger across Isabel's palm.
"Yer babe will travel to join the other child," the gypsy said. "Seek the angel, who will carry yer prayers to the Lord. Would ye like to buy a lucky charm, Me Lady?"
Isabel shook her head no, then took a coin from her fur muff, and placed it in the gypsy's outstretched hand.
As they walked away, Isabel laughed, and asked to no one in particular, "Where does one go, to seek an angel?"
A short while later, Isabel decided, she was ready to go back to her bedchamber. Hester appeared to be very relieved, by that news. As soon as she was back in her room, Isabel pulled a small square of paper from her muff, to read. It said simply, 'Robbie in the stables'.
It was midday, slightly more than a month later, when Isabel felt a painful tightening, in her distended abdomen. Then, a rush of liquid soaked her gunna, and she knew her labor had begun. She had come to the hall for some company, although her back ached, and she had been feeling some discomfort, in her belly. Isabel had thought it was too soon, for the babe to be born, though she was huge. Rosamund and Hester, hearing her moan, and seeing the wet gown, jumped into action, to help her back upstairs.
However, when Isabel struggled to walk to the stairs, the young knight, Ramsey, hurried over to carry her up. Hester directed him to the Lord’s Chamber, rather than the tower room she currently occupied, and ordered some one to go to the village, for the midwife.
There was no reason to hurry, though. At dawn the next morning, the babe had still not been born. By then, the midwife was growing concerned, that Isabel was too weak, to push the babe from her body. In that case, they both might die. This news, sent Hester and Harold, into an argument, as to whether word should be sent to His Lordship.
Several more hours passed, before a blood curdling scream reverberated through the Castle, followed closely, by the babe’s first cries. Both Hester, and Harold, who had spent most of the past nearly twenty-two hours, on a bench outside the Lord’s Chamber, sighed in relief. However, their relief was tempered a short while later, when the midwife reported that the babe was fine. Isabel, on the other hand, was unconscious, and the midwife did not know how well she would recover.
A whole entire day passed, before Rosamund brought the news that Isabel woke up, for a short while, and nursed the babe. The Lady did not leave her room for a full week, after the babe’s birth. In the weeks that followed, Isabel remained very weak, and leaned heavily on her maid, when moving about the Castle. Though, she was nursing the child, Nathaniel, and he seemed to be thriving.
This continued into the month of April. Then, one morning when Hester went to check on the Lady, she discovered Isabel, Nathaniel, and Rosamund, were gone. The Castle was immediately searched. When that turned up nothing, patrols were sent out to look for any trace of them outside the castle walls. A check of the stables, showed no horses were missing. The two women, and the babe, had vanished into thin air.
After spending a whole day and part of another, searching for any trace of the missing Lady, and her son, Harold decided that a message would have to be sent, to His Lordship. He knew Brant had said he did not want to hear about her. However, his first order was to keep Isabel safe, which Harold could not do, if he could not find her. So, while Harold and others continued the search, Gowain was sent to tell the Lord, that Isabel, and her babe, had gone missing.
Gowain rode throughout the remaining daylight, stopping to rest for the night. At dawn, he continued the ride to Brant’s Castle, arriving there after midday. However, he discovered that the Lord was not there. Kate had given birth to a baby girl, days earlier, and Brant had taken Hannah to visit her, and Robert. By nightfall, it would be three whole days, since anyone had seen Isabel, and Nathaniel. So it was decided that Gowain, and several of Brant’s men, would ride to Robert’s, even though it would be dark, by the time they arrived. Isabel’s husband needed to know she was missing, as soon as possible.
Fortunately, with fresh horses the ride passed quickly, and they arrived at Robert’s, just after the evening meal had finished. Brant and Robert, were found in the hall, talking with a group of men, over tankards of ale. Gowain, seeing Brant, rushed over to him.
“Me Lord, Harold sent me to tell ye, that the Lady Isabel, Nathaniel, and Rosamund, have gone missing. We searched the Castle, and your lands around it, but there is no sign of them,” Gowain said, urgently.
Brant raised his hand, and said, “Wait a minute. Slow down. Isabel is missing? Who is Nathaniel? And Rosamund?”
“That is what the Lady named ‘er babe, Nathaniel. Lady Isabel has been real sick, since she ‘ad the babe. So they would not ‘ave been able to walk far. There were not any horses missing, either,” Gowain explained, speaking slower.
“Isabel had a babe?” Brant asked, in shock.
“Aye, Me Lord,” Gowain answered. “She was in labor for a long time, and the midwife was afraid they might die. Afterward, she was real weak, and could not hardly walk. But Nathaniel was real healthy, and boy, does he have a set of pipes on ‘im.”
“Isabel had a child, and no one thought they should send word to me?” Brant demanded, angrily.
Gowain answered, hesitantly, “Harold said ye did not want to ‘ear anything about her.”
“Now you are here, telling me she is missing, so you would be telling me about her, right?” Brant asked, testily.
Gowain explained, “Ye told Harold to keep ‘er safe. We cannot do that, if we do not know where she is. She was there at night. Then in the morning, Isabel, Nathaniel and Rosamund, were all gone. That was three days ago. So Harold sent me to tell ye, to find out what ye want to do.”
“Who is Rosamund?” Robert asked.
“Lady Isabel’s maid, that she brought with ‘er, Yer Lordship,” Gowain explained.
“Esme, and her maid, vanished in the middle of the night,” Brant said. “Now Isabel, her maid, and a babe, have vanished. I would like to think she left on her own, but considering the similarities, I cannot take any chances. I am going to have to go look for her.”
He looked toward the hearth, where Hannah sat with Kate. Katherine had been listening intently, to the conversation.
“Hannah can stay here with me, if it is alright with you, Brant,” she said.
“Can you post some men, like we did inside Peggy’s Castle?” Brant posed to Robert, who nodded in the affirmative. “It might be prudent to see no one else disappears, until I have a better idea, of what is going on. We will wait for dawn before we ride out, so get some rest men.”
“I think I should ride with you, to watch your back,” Robert said. He moved toward the hearth, as he asked Kate, “Would you be alright here, by yourself?”
“Actually, my father will probably be back here tomorrow. Nothing is going to happen to me, or his granddaughter, if he can prevent it,” Kate answered.
“Then, I definitely do not want to be here,” Robert said.
Brant had seated himself by the couple, listening to their exchange.
“What did you do, for my father?” Kate demanded. When Robert offered no answer, she continued, “He was dead set against our marriage. Then, he was handing you a castle, and telling me to be happy. He will not tell me why, either.”
Brant was surprised to discover that Kate did not know, what Richard and Robert had done. So he decided to tell on his friend.
“Robert helped your father kidnap me, and pressure me to wed Isabel. Her father, and Avery’s father, were cousins. Avery was claiming control of her men, to fight me,” Brant divulged, with relish. “They did not tell you?”
Brant watched Robert squirm under his wife’s disapproving glare, for a few moments, in amusement.
Then, Robert offered, in his defense, “It was supposed to prevent the war, between him and Avery, from growing. He could stick the girl somewhere, until she was older. But then, it started to look like your father and Isabel, were up to something more. I am not even sure, if it is over, yet. I think your father is involved in a good many things, he is not likely to be speaking of,” Robert turned to Brant, adding, “What about Isabel’s babe. Could he be yours?”
Brant replied, “I never touched the girl that I recall.”
Robert noticed, Brant got that closed off, secretive look, that he had been getting since his stay in Isabel’s jail. The change in his friend, that he was at least somewhat to blame for, bothered him.
“What the devil did they do to you?” Robert asked Brant, angrily.
Brant’s mind drifted to the serf Alisa. She had drugged him into mindlessly moving as she instructed, while she cleaned his wounds. He remembered that. Was it possible that Isabel had had her way with him, and he did not remember? He hoped not. Still, if she were of the same devious nature, as her distant cousin Avery, she could claim the babe as Brant’s heir, with him out of the way. Until he knew exactly what the situation was, he was going to be extremely cautious.
Reluctant to tell his friend, he was not sure if he knew, what his captors had done to him, Brant changed the subject.
“What did your father say about his activities, right before he consented to your marriage?” Brant asked Kate.
“All I know, is he was spending a lot of time with Isabel,” Kate replied. “Oh, he also provided Isabel’s mother with safe escort, to her dower property. That seemed rather odd, as Lady Ann should have had her own people, to see to that. I recall my father was leaving, with Lionel and Justin on several occasions, with no explanation. A group of Lords, you know, with just one or two knights from each. I have seen that before, when father was doing something for the King. He actually only inherited about 300 acres. The rest of his holdings, were deeded to him for some service to the Crown, most of which he would not talk about.”
“So it is like I said. Your father, knowing I was smitten with you, got me involved in one of his secretive undertakings. Now, I am worried, it is not over,” Robert said.
The next morning, the knights were up before dawn, for the morning meal. At first light, they were ready to ride out.
As they mounted the horses, Robert commented, “Good job, Brant. I already felt guilty, about helping Richard kidnap you. Now you have my wife furious with me, too.”
Brant laughed heartily at him, before nudging his destry into a gallop. The men rode most of the day, stopping late in the afternoon, to make camp for the night. The horses were getting tired, and it would be dark, before they reached their destination. If this was some type of trap, Brant wanted to approach the Castle, in the light of day. Lookouts were sent out at a short distance around the camp, to be sure that the group was not ambushed, in the darkness. If Isabel’s disappearance was intended to lure him into a trap, Brant intended to be ready for it. The night passed without incident, though, and they were back underway, with their horses rested, at sunup.
Harold was in the courtyard, partaking in a little jousting practice with the other castle knights, when Brant, Robert, and their men arrived.
He approached Brant, and said, “It is good to see you, My Lord. I was not sure what to do, when the women, and the babe, went missing.”
The knight appeared to sigh in relief, that he could now drop the matter in the Brant’s hands, and let him figure it out.
They walked into the hall, sending the servants scurrying to tap a keg, and get the new arrivals a tankard. Other serfs, quickly set about preparing food for the Lord, and his men. Hester joined the knights. Between her, and Harold, within a few minutes, Brant was certain that they were both enamored, with the precious little lad, Nathaniel. However, he still had no idea about how the babe, and the women, could have vanished, or where they may have gone.
Finally, Brant interrupted to ask, "Were there any visitors here, before the women and the babe vanished?"
Hester answered, "Nay, Me Lord. The Lady did not ever talk to anyone, from the outside. Well," she paused, then continued, "only the gypsy fortune teller. She said it was a lark, and wondered if she were going to meet a dark, mysterious, man."
