"It looks more as if I were a coward, I think," retorts Arthur,
laughing, but shooting an angry glance at the gallant captain as he
speaks.
"Well, what does the immortal William say?" returns Ringwood coolly.
"'Conscience doth make cowards of us all!'"
"You have a sharp wit, sir," says Arthur, with apparent lightness, but
pale with passion.
"I say, look here," breaks in Sir Adrian hastily, pulling out his watch;
"it must be nearly time for tea. By Jove, quite half past four, and we
know what Lady FitzAlmont will say to us if we keep her deprived of her
favorite beverage for even five minutes. Come, let us run, or
destruction will light upon our heads."
So saying, he leads the way, and soon they leave the haunted chamber and
all its gloomy associations far behind them.
CHAPTER VII.
Reluctantly, yet with a certain amount of curiosity to know what it is
he may wish to say to her, Dora wends her way to the gallery to keep her
appointment with Arthur. Pacing to and fro beneath the searching eyes
of the gaunt cavaliers and haughty dames that gleam down upon him from
their canvases upon the walls, Dynecourt impatiently awaits her coming.
"Ah, you are late!" he exclaims as she approaches. There is a tone of
authority about him that dismays her.
"Not very, I think," she responds pleasantly, deeming conciliatory
measures the best.
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