They were robbers who were prowling about with a
view to stealing Dame Clementina's silver milk-pans some dark night.
[Illustration: A STRANGE SAD STATE OF THINGS.]
All through the day the people kept coming and stopping. It was
wonderful how many things poor Dame Clementina had to be envied
by men and women, and even children. They envied Nan for her yellow
curls or her blue eyes, or her pretty snuff-colored gown. When the
sun set, the yard in front of Dame Clementina's cottage was full of
people. Lastly, just before dark, the count himself came ambling up
on a coal-black horse. The count was a majestic old man dressed in
velvet, with stars on his breast. His white hair fell in long curls
on his shoulders, and he had a pointed beard. As he came to the gate,
he caught a glimpse of Nan in the door.
"How I wish that little maiden was my child," said he. And,
straightway, he stopped. His horse pawed and trembled when he lashed
him with a jeweled whip to make him go on; but he could not stir
forward one step. Neither could the count dismount from his saddle; he
sat there fuming with rage.
Meanwhile, poor Dame Clementina and little Nan were overcome with
distress. The sight of their yard full of all these weeping people
was dreadful. Neither of them had any idea how to do away with the
trouble, because of their family inability to see their way out of a
difficulty.
Pages:
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112