"Art thou betrothed?"
"Nay!"
"What? not even betrothed?" Then in a low, trembling voice, "Has he wronged thee?"
"Oh, Richard, for shame! for shame!"
"When did he go away?"
"The second day of the Stourbridge Fair."
"And thou hast not seen him since?" he asked in amazement.
"Nay, I have not seen him since."
He paced up and down a few times, and then he came back to her and looked down on her, sullen, uncertain, not knowing what to think. "Listen!" at last he broke out, "I return and find thee unhappy. He must have caused this. Tell me the truth and the whole truth, or I shall seek him if it be to the end of the earth, and I shall wring the truth from him if it has to be from his dying lips. Dost understand?"
She understood. But before she would speak, she made him promise solemnly not to reveal his whereabouts. It was a promise given most reluctantly, nevertheless she felt certain it would not be broken.