Tricked out with gems shall I go hither?
Or in a carriage a la mode,
Land of the madrigal and ode,
Of rainbow air and cloudless weather?
Or in the garb by Love bestow'd?
With roses crown'd and sprigs of heather,
With mandolin and dart enbow'd
Shall Cupid and I go together--
Land of the madrigal and ode,
Of rainbow air and cloudless weather?
As the last tinkling notes of the lute died away, Calvert was about to
go, but he was suddenly startled by hearing a faint scream. Turning
quickly and noiselessly in the direction from which the sound seemed to
have come, he found himself in an instant in a thick and beautiful
bosquet. A double row of ilex-trees, inside of which ran a colonnade of
white marble, completely encircled and shut in a cleared space, in the
centre of which bubbled a fountain. Into this secluded spot the moon,
high in the heavens, shone with unclouded radiance, so that he saw, as
clearly as though 'twere noonday, Madame de St. Andre standing at the
edge of the basin, her lips white and parted in fear, one hand pressed
against her throat, the other held roughly in the grasp of Monsieur de
St.
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