She looked at him gravely.
"Well, sir, an you will have it, he was—he was a certain Captain Miles Protheroe."
Captain Protheroe laughed unwillingly at her coolness.
"Come, you must give a better account of him than that, mistress."
"Nay, is that no good account?" she exclaimed with elaborate astonishment. "Marry! How one may be deceived. I have ever heard Captain Protheroe spoken of as passably honest, though perchance not overwise, and decidedly hard-featured."
But this was too much, and Captain Protheroe lost all patience. Yet if the girl persisted in her saucy masquerade, he resolved at least to play up to her, and let her see how she enjoyed the part.
"A truce of this fooling, girl," he began harshly.
"Faith, sir, an my conversation please you not, I will e'en take my leave," she interposed quickly, and again turned to leave him.
But Captain Protheroe seized her cloak and held her fast.
"Listen to me, my girl," he said sharply, "and bridle your saucy tongue. Give me the information I require or, by Heaven, I'll march you back to the village and keep you prisoner till you learn to obey. Make up your mind. Which shall it be?"