human
When I was about again, they told me how it chanced. Sir Reginald took a mortal hurt at Marston, but rode with the best of his strength to Norton Conyers. He found Lady Graham at the gate, waiting for news of him; and he stooped from saddle, so they say, and kissed her. ’I could not die away from you, wife,’ he said.
gpt
Ay, growled the Governor,
human
She tried to help him get from horse; but he shook his head. ’The stairs are wide enough,’ was all his explanation. Then he rode in at the main door and up the stair, and bent his head low to enter the big bed-chamber. He got from the saddle to the bed, lay with his eyes on fire with happiness, and so died.
gpt
A good ending, said the Squire of Nappa roughly, because he dared not give his feelings play.
human
What I should call a gentleman’s ending—leal to King and wife. Oh, you young fool, no need to make a tragedy about it!
gpt
As for that, sir, tragedy is in the making, if no help comes to Norton Conyers. We had word this morning that a company of Roundheads was marching on the Hall—the worst of the whole brood—those who robbed the dead and dying in Wilstrop Wood.
human
A Mecca for the King, and bustle about the business, lads!