"Now he will surely know the truth," thought Dorothy, but she said: "I am much younger than you, and am not so large and strong. I am unskilled in the use of a sword, and therefore am I no match for Sir John Manners than whom, I have heard, there is no better swordsman, stronger arm, nor braver heart in England."
"You flatter me, my friend," returned John, forced into a good humor against his will; "but you must leave. He who cannot defend himself must yield; it is the law of nature and of men."
John advanced toward Dorothy, who retreated stepping backward, holding her arm over her face.
"I am ready to yield if you wish. In fact, I am eager to yield—more eager than you can know," she cried.
"It is well," answered John, putting his sword in sheath.
"But," continued Dorothy, "I will not go away."
"Then you must fight," said John.
"I tell you again I am willing, nay, eager to yield to you, but I also tell you I cannot fight in the way you would have me. In other ways perhaps I can fight quite as well as anybody. But really, I am ashamed to draw my sword, since to do so would show you how poorly I am equipped to defend myself under your great laws of nature and of man. Again, I wish to assure you that I am more than eager to yield; but I cannot fight you, and I will not go away."
The wonder never ceases that John did not recognize her. She took no pains to hide her identity, and after a few moments of concealment she was anxious that John should discover her under my garments.
"I would know his voice," she thought, "did he wear all the petticoats in Derbyshire."