She
could not bear him away from her, and he, with that respect for
authority which the age demanded, would not go without her
blessing and consent.
So it came about that Nigel, with his lion heart and with the
blood of a hundred soldiers thrilling in his veins, still at the
age of two and twenty, wasted the weary days reclaiming his hawks
with leash and lure or training the alans and spaniels who shared
with the family the big earthen-floored hall of the manor-house.
Day by day the aged Lady Ermyntrude had seen him wax in strength
and in manhood, small of stature, it is true, but with muscles of
steel--and a soul of fire. From all parts, from the warden of
Guildford Castle, from the tilt-yard of Farnham, tales of his
prowess were brought back to her, of his daring as a rider, of his
debonair courage, of his skill with all weapons; but still she,
who had both husband and son torn from her by a bloody death,
could not bear that this, the last of the Lorings, the final bud
of so famous an old tree, should share the same fate. With a
weary heart, but with a smiling face, he bore with his uneventful
days, while she would ever put off the evil time until the harvest
was better, until the monks of Waverley should give up what they
had taken, until his uncle should die and leave money for his
outfit, or any other excuse with which she could hold him to her
side.
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