"If your friend furnishes money, can we reach London in two days?"
"I'm sorry," I answered, "but the journey will need nearer three, unless we travel at the King's pace or the Duke of Monmouth's."
"You needn't come all the way with me. Set me safe on the road, and go where your business calls you."
"For what crime is this punishment?" I asked with a smile.
"No, I'm serious. I'm not seeking a compliment from you. I see that you're sad. You have been very kind to me, Simon. You risked life and liberty to save me."
"Well, who could do less? Besides, I had given my promise to my lord your father."
She made no reply, and I, desiring to warn her against every danger, related what had passed at the cottage, omitting only Monmouth's loudmouthed threats against myself. At last, moved by some impulse of curiosity rather than anything higher, I repeated how the Duke had said that, sooner than lose her altogether, he would have married her, and how my Lord Carford had been still his humble servant in this project as in any other. She flushed again as she heard me, and plucked her tuft of grass.
"Indeed," I ended, "I believe his Grace spoke no more than the truth; I've never seen a man more in love."
"And you know well what it is to be in love, don't you?"