“In fine, sir, I fear I have too long been the dupe of your designs, and until, as a virtuous girl, I can sign my name on the marriage register of the village church, I will never leave my father’s home, even should I love the man ever so much who bade me act otherwise.
“Your humble servant,
“Ellen Harmer.”
“Clever as she’s pretty; but quick and sharp as a needle,” thought Blood. “So much the better for King Charles.”
“Did you miss the old man as usual?” asked Blood.
“No, sir; for once he caught me,” said the servant, with a very rueful face.
“Then you had an adventure. What said he to you?”
“‘Oh! it’s you, is it? Here again, eh, and always when I’m out,’ says he, flourishing his walking, stick, and then he shouted to the dogs, ‘On to him Rover! give it him, Spot! hold tight, Jip!’ and all the while he was laying on to me with his thick stick without mercy.
“Quite a pleasant affair,” said Blood, with a smile.
“Yes, sir, to think about; but not very agreeable if you have to go through it.”
“Well, well, I don’t wonder why old Harmer takes so much care of her, for she’s one of the daintiest little maidens that ever trod the earth,” said Blood. “No matter, if he had her locked up in a castle it would be all the same, she must be the king’s. To-night is the last time she’ll sleep under her father’s roof. Come, Jonas,” for such was his shivering servant’s name; “go change your clothes, and have a stiff glass of brandy, I shall want you about midnight to go to the miller’s house with me.”