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Masefield, John, 1878-1967

"Martin Hyde, the Duke's Messenger"

I warn you." Here she stopped, quite unable to go on.
"I can't," she continued, more to herself than to me, "I can't.
They oughtn't to have put this on me. They oughtn't. They
oughtn't." She laid her unhurt hand on my shoulder for a moment.
"Let me warn you," she said earnestly, "that you're in danger."
"In danger from you?" I asked.
"Don't ask me more," she said, "I hate myself for telling you
even that. Oh, it's terrible to have to do it. Go now. Don't ask
me more. But I had to warn you. But I can't do it myself." I did
not know what to make of this; but I gathered that her task
(whatever it was) from which she had shrunk so bitterly in the
Dutch town only the night before, was now to be deputed to
another, probably to the captain, perhaps to the Dartmouth
justices. I did not like the thought; but I thanked her for
warning me, it was generous of her to warn me. I took out the
dagger with which she had tried to stab me. "You said we were in
opposite camps, Miss Carew," I said. "But I wouldn't like to keep
this. I mean I wouldn't like to think that we were enemies,
really." I daresay I said other foolish things as well, at the
same time.
"Yes, keep it," she said. "I couldn't bear to have it again. But
be warned. Don't trust me. While we're in opposite camps you be
warned. For I'm your enemy, then, when you least expect it."
Nothing much happened the next day until the evening, by which
time we were off the Isle of Wight. With the aid of the mate, I
doctored Aurelia's hand again; that was the only memorable event
of the day.


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