"She is now sixteen years old, and in another year will be deemed
marriageable. My heart is broken at the thought, and I can scarce
see the paper on which I write for weeping. I know not why I send
to you, nor does the count know that I am writing, nor does it seem
possible that any aid can come to us, seeing that we are here in
the heart of Bohemia, and that Wallenstein's army lies between us
and you. But somehow in my heart I have a hope that you may aid us,
and at any rate I know that you will sympathize with us greatly.
I feel sure that if there be any mode in which we may be aided it
will be seized by your ready wit. And now adieu! This letter will
be brought to you by a messenger who will be hired by a woman who
attends us, and who has a kind heart as well as an eye to her own
interests. Send back by the messenger some token which she may
pass on to me, that I may know that you have received it. Send no
written answer, for the danger is too great."
Malcolm twisted off two or three links of the chain which had long
before been presented to him by the count, and then, until relieved
from duty, paced up and down, slowly revolving in his mind what
could best be done to aid his friends. His mind was at last made
up, and when his company was called in he went to his colonel and
asked for leave of absence, stating his reasons for wishing to
absent himself from the regiment.
Pages:
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327