But Patsy had no idea of fainting. Tears were far indeed from her eyes. She was only calling herself a fool, and wishing that she had thought to bring her little dagger with her--the double-edged one that Julian Wemyss had given her on his return from the Canary Islands, black leather sheath scrolled in gold to be worn in the stocking. Still since she had not that, why, she would take the first weapon that came to her hand. And whenever they ran dear of the fog, which happened at the top of every considerable hill, her little white teeth gleamed in the darkness with something like anticipation.
* * * * *
"Up, Louis, out with you--they are away! The Prince has carried off Patsy. Here is your pony. Get in the saddle. I must manage without!"
Unceremoniously Stair Garland awaked Louis from
