"I've lost my wager. Coldly she spoke, in a distinctly accented voice. 55 <7> THE MANOR, 1349 They moved to the country manor in the autumn of 1349, when plague was still raging through the city. This is a mere boy. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. But give me till to-morrow—only till to-morrow—I may be able to part with him then. Good night!" She pressed his hand and went out. Not a word had been exchanged between the two boys on the road. I have suffered all this.
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