“Who told you so base a lie?” said Gabriel, starting to his feet.
“One whose word I trust,” she replied, quietly, “the loyal Governor of Canon Frome.”
“His name?” asked Gabriel, eagerly.
“His name is Colonel Norton,” she said, triumphantly.
“Norton!” he cried, in horror. “He is the man you trust? The man who has dared to speak of love to you?”
“Yes; why not? Is he not a brave soldier and active in the King’s service?”
“Brave, no doubt. He is an Englishman. But surely you have heard that even his own party are aghast at his doings?”
“I have heard naught against him,” said Hilary, indignantly. “You are jealous, and if there is one thing on earth I despise ’tis jealousy.”
“The fellow is not worthy to touch the hem-of your garment,” said Gabriel, sternly. “Listen to me. You shall hear the plain truth. ’Tis well known that he is a Cavalier of the type of my Lord Goring. I would sooner see you dead than in his power.”
“It would be unfair of me to heed your attack on the absent,” said Hilary, coldly. “You are jealous, and ready to believe evil of Colonel Norton.”