Chapter 29 - Page 2

considerable difficulty muttered
her desire to alight, and take her fortune by herself. Sir Piercie
Shafton, too devoted a squire of dames to consider the most lowly as
exempted from a respectful attention, independent of the claims which
the Miller's maiden possessed over him, dismounted instantly from his
horse, and received in his arms the poor girl, who still wept
bitterly, and, when placed on the ground, seemed scarce able to
support herself, or at least still clung, though, as it appeared,
unconsciously, to the support he had afforded. He carried her to a
weeping birch tree, which grew on the green-sward bank around which
the road winded, and, placing her on the ground beneath it, exhorted
her to compose herself. A strong touch of natural feeling struggled
with, and half overcame, his acquired affectation, while he said,
"Credit me, most generous damsel, the service you have done to Piercie
Shafton he would have deemed too dearly bought, had he foreseen it was
to cost you these tears and singults. Show me the cause of your grief,
and if I can do aught to remove it, believe that the rights you have
acquired over me will make your commands sacred as those of an
empress. Speak, then, fair Molinara, and command him whom fortune hath
rendered at once your debtor and your champion. What are your orders?"

"Only that you will fly and save yourself," said Mysie, mustering up her
utmost efforts to utter these few words.

"Yet," said the knight, "let me not leave you without some token of
remembrance." Mysie would have said there needed none, and most truly
would she have spoken, could she have spoken for weeping. "Piercie
Shafton is poor," he continued, "but let this chain testify he is not
ungrateful to his deliverer."

He took from his neck the rich chain and medallion we have formerly
mentioned, and put it into the powerless hand of the poor maiden, who
neither received nor rejected it, but, occupied with more intense
feelings, seemed scarce aware of what he was doing.

"We shall meet again," said Sir Piercie Shafton, "at least I trust so;
meanwhile, weep no more, fair Molinara, an thou lovest me."

The phrase of conjuration was but used as an ordinary commonplace
expression of the time, but bore a deeper sense to poor Mysie's ear.
She dried her tears; and when the knight, in all kind and chivalrous
courtesy, stooped to embrace her at their parting, she rose humbly up
to receive the proffered honour in a posture of more deference, and
meekly and gratefully accepted the offered salute. Sir Piercie Shafton
mounted his horse, and began to ride off, but curiosity, or perhaps a
stronger feeling, soon induced him to look