"Nay, I beg not."
"Then thou meanest thou wilt not forgive thy poor servant, and wilt impose such extreme penalty; and further importunities would be useless?"
"I forgive the dead all things."
"My lord, he is not already dead?" and she fell from him aghast.
"Nay, but soon will be."
Mistress Penwick saw no softening in Cedric's manner, and she became alarmed and threw some tenderness in her voice and spoke softly, that she might lead or manage her lord by gentleness and tact.
"My lord, do not look so cold and hard." She drew nearer and her voice became more pleading. "'Tis a little thing for thee to grant me this one desire. I beg with all my heart for thy servant's life."
"Nay, I have given order for his despatch before sunset."
"Nay, nay, my lord, I beg." She came close to him and laid one hand caressingly upon the silver fastenings of his coat and he turned white and trembled and caught her hand within his own and bent down and pressed his lips to her fingers. She saw her advantage and followed it close.
"Wilt grant me this one thing, my lord, and I will hold myself—ready to—hear thy suit renewed—if thou so will it?" His voice vibrant and low with passion he could hardly restrain, broke forth,—