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Chapter 5 THE INN OF THE HAWK AND RAVEN

Word Count: 3475    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

analyzing the garb and manner of the men. She was saying to herself that here were her first real specimens of Graustark peasantry, and they were to mark an ineffaceable spot in her memory.

hats and fezzes and caps, some with feathers In the bands, others without. The man nearest the coach wore the dirty gray uniform of as army officer, full of holes and rents, while another strode along in a pair of baggy yellow trousers and

s my revolver?" It had come to her like a flash that a subsequent emergency should not find h

ha-what fo'

hose men see what you are doing." While Aunt Fanny's trembling fingers went in search of the firearm, Beverly outlined the situation briefly bu

s. Mebbe yo' all 'druther hab de gingeh?" With this wonderful subterfuge as a shield she dug slyly into one of the bags and pulled forth a revolver. Under ordinary

nt Fanny," she said, and Au

d,-yo' highness,"

h a sudden jolt. An instant later the tall driver appeared at

howing his white teeth in a triumphant smile. His expose

d expression came into his face. Then his smil

refers not to speak the language of Graustark

everly, catching her breath. "Jus

place, so our fortunes may run together for some hours, at least. There is but little to offer you in the way of nourishment, and there are none of the comforts of a palace.

pped to the ground, looking a

" she murmured

or, and the dark shadows just beyond the circle of light are the walls of the Hawk and Raven.

is no inn at all?" th

ng the revolver in her pocket. It was a capacious pocket, and the muzzle of the weapon bored defiantly into a timid powder-rag that lay on the bottom. The little leather purse from which it escaped had its silver lips opened as if in a b

no house in which to slee

he, waving his hand gracefully. "I

, pityingly. He laughed and abse

enormous size looming up in the light of the lanterns. Unconsciously her thoughts went over to the Forest of Arden and the woodland home of Rosalind, as she had imagined it to be. Soon there came to her ears the swish of waters, as of some t

w in the valley and there are marshes yonder when the river is in its natural bed. The floods have covered the low groun

rt distance ahead. They had turned a bend in the overhanging cl

enabled to survey a portion of her surroundings. The overhanging ledge of rock formed a wide, deep canopy, underneath which was perfect shelter. The floor seemed to be rich, grassless loam, and here and there were pallets of long grass, evidently the couches of these homeless men. All about were huge trees, and in the direction of the river the grass gr

ssion. Surely, here was a careless freelance upon whom life weighed lightly, while death "stood afar off" and despaired. The light of the fire brought his gleaming face into bold relief, for his hat was off. Black and thick was his hair, rumpled and apparently uncared for. The face was lean, smooth and strong, with a devil-may-care curve at the corners of the mouth. Beverly found herself lamenting the fact that such an interesting face should be marred by an ugly black patch, covering she knew not w

Two dashing young fellows carried the seat-cushions under the rocky canopy and constructed an elaborate couch for the "Princess." The chief, with his own hands, soon began the co

" he said, approaching her with a

teresting to watch y

responded. "You will find seclusion there, and

d then impulsively extended her hand. He clasped

g you implici

ighness, that the conveniences are so few. We have no landlady except Mother Earth, no waiters, no porters, no maids, in the Inn of the Hawk and Raven. This being a men's

ned perceptibly, whilst the faces of his men

he said, "I think I can manage very well i

e dinner served in your r

aid she. A few minutes later Beverly was sitting upon one of her

thed her face in one of the leather buckets from the coach, and the d

fo' yo', but whar is Ah goin' to sleep? Out yondah, w

ed in here, Aunt Fa

eh did see, an' Ah wouldn' trust 'em '

ch a very courteous g

ve

m Gawgia or Kaintuck," was Au

water which took the place of wine and coffee and cordial. It was a strange supper amid strange environments, but she enjoyed it as she had never before enjoyed a meal. The air was full of romance and

id to him, her voice tremulous with excitement. He looke

ome meal we have had in

on't m

nd to you, for we are better prepared to entertain royalty to-d

not always live

highness. I have

born in the

not by birth or condition. I am a native of the vast domain know

poet," cried Beverly, forgett

ly rising, "we shall be pleased to consider the Inn of the Hawk and Raven closed for the night. Having feasted well, we should sleep well. We have a

n her. But Sir Red-feather's suggestion savored of a command and she reluctantly made her way to the flapping blanket t

's dreams be pleas

pertinently. "That was very cool of him, I must s

l night. She heard low singing as if in the distance, but after a while the stillness became so intense that its pressure almost suffocated her. The rush of the river grew louder and

ke. The blackness of the strange chamber was broken ever and anon by faint flashes of light from without, and she lived through long minutes of terror before it dawned upon her that a thunderstorm was brewing. The wind was rising, and the night se

the approach of the storm, he stood staring into the heap of ashes at his feet. His face was toward her, every feature plainly distinguishable in the faint glow from the fire. To her amazement the black patch was missing from the eye; and, what surprised her almost to the point of exclaiming aloud, there appeared to be absolutely no reason for its

r doorway. She fell back breathless. He stopped just outside, and she knew that he was listening for sounds from within. After

ir tops, to swing themselves gently to and from the wind. In the lowlands down from the cave "will o' the wisps" played tag with "Jack o' the lanterns," merrily scampering about in the blackness, reminding her of the revellers in a famous Brocken scen

urried the singing breezes, reluctant to leave a playground so pleasing to the fancy. Soon the night became a cauldron, a surging, hissing, roaring receptacle in which were mixing the ingredients of disaster. Night-birds flapped through the moaning tree-tops,

the elements to mass themselves and their energy upon his head. She shrieked involuntaril

Like a flash the walls of the guest chamber were whisked away, scuttling off into the night or back into the depths of the c

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