“Well, I’m damned!” she whispered, and stood stock still.
His Highness, coming first, saw her at once, and paused—as he thought recognizing her—in some amazement. It was an embarrassing moment, and he was standing in frank indecision, when Chesterfield, coming up, pushed by him, and in his turn jerked to a stop.
“What, by God!” said he. “So we have tracked you to your lair, my lady.”
He ran at her, with a scowl, and seized her by the wrist, so roughly that she cried out.
“Aye, howl!” said he. “You will have full reason for your lamentation before I have done with you and this fancy beau of yours. Come, my pretty faithful Kate, and watch us fight. You shall stand by, and clap your husband victor, while I cut him into ribbons for love-knots to your gown. Come, stir—there is a green hard by where he shall caper for you, dancing to very prick-song. Will you not come?”
She could not help herself, indeed. His grip was iron; he dragged her with him, so that he half pulled her arm out. “O, lud!” she thought. “I’m in for it now!”
A few steps farther, and they broke into the clearing. My lady and Hamilton were just before them; it was plain they had both overheard. They stood as if petrified, Kate with white face and bewildered eyes, her companion with the grin of a dog at bay lifting his lip.
“Curse it!” said Chesterfield. “What’s this?”
Involuntarily he released his hold; on which Moll, with a naughty laugh, sprang from him and stood apart, nursing her angry wrist. And so they remained a full minute, Chesterfield and my lord Duke facing the other two, the girl covertly watching.
The Earl looked from one woman to the other, and more than once; but always his eyes returned to his true wife, on whom they finally rested.