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Page 450
of the state of war, but it wound its way through the proper intermediaries and came, at last, to Roselynde. For three days after that, Joanna had done nothing but read and reread that letter. She did not eat nor really sleep. She did not weep. Edwina watched her mistress with growing anxiety.
On the third day, Edwina tore Salisbury's letter from Joanna's hands. That gained no more response than anything else. Joanna knew the words by heart and sat murmuring them over and over to herself. By the evening, Edwina was certain that Joanna would die if she was not immediately drawn back to the real world. She called Brian and went with the dog to Alinor's chief huntsman.
"Can you hurt the dog so that he seems near to death but will not really die?" Edwina asked the old man.
"Brian? You want me to hurt Brian? You are mad. The young mistress will kill me by cutting me apart an inch at a time, and the lady, when she hears, will roast the pieces over a slow fire."
"It is the young mistress who will die if you do not," Edwina said and burst into tears, dropping to her knees and throwing her arms around Brian's neck to weep into his rough coat. "I cannot rouse her nor make her eat or sleep. If I thought she would care, I would tell you to hurt me. I can think of nothing else. Brian was histhe young lord's. He gave her the dog."
"I know that," the huntsman said, his broad face twisted with pain. All knew of Geoffrey's death and all grieved. "But Brian" He put a hand on the great dog's head, and the amiable animal beat himself with the wagging of his tail.
"She will die," Edwina moaned, rocking to and fro. "She will die. I have done everything, everything. If the dog cries, perhaps she will hear."
The huntsman looked at Edwina. He did not doubt her distress either for her mistress or for the dog, nor did he doubt her knowledge. He gripped Brian's collar and drew him out of Edwina's grasp. She knelt where she was for a few moments, sobbing, and then leapt to her feet to pursue the huntsman.

 
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