Then it was Munn's turn to break into words.
"Now renounce my soul!" he cried, and flushed to the hair, and then grew white under his coat of tan. "So that's Will Lowry's bent—to mate my sister with his ill-conditioned brat! Upon my conscience, Merrylips, I be half minded—"
She held her breath, waiting to hear him bid her scramble on his horse's back. But after a moment he shook his head.
"Nay, it must not be," he said sadly. "Monksfield is no place to which to bring a girl child. Ah, Merrylips, if thou wert but a young boy!"
Merrylips clenched her hands. She was fairly trembling with a great idea that had come to her. When she tried to speak, she almost stammered.
"Munn! Dearest Munn! Why should I not go as a boy—as thy little brother? Oh, I'll bear me like a boy! I'll never cry nor fret nor be weary. Oh, do but try me, Munn! Best brother! Sweetest brother! Let me go with thee as a little boy!"
"Thou lookest a boy," said Munn, and tried to smile, as he pointed at her petticoat. "What of clothes?"
"Faith, sir," cried Stephen, "if the little mistress be stayed for naught but a doublet and a pair of breeches, here they be, ready to hand!"
As he spoke, the trooper began to unfasten Herbert's ruddy brown doublet, and at that Herbert screamed:—
"Do thou but wait! 'Tis thou shalt pay for this, Sybil Venner, when my mother cometh to hear on it!"