Meanwhile Sybil, unable to stand, had sunk down upon the floor, where she remained only until Gentiliska saw her by the blaze of the fire.
"You are as cold as ice!" said the kind-hearted girl taking Sybil's hands in her own, and trying to warm them. "Come to the fire," she continued, assisting the lady to rise, and drawing her towards the chimney. "Sit here," she added, arranging her own red cloak as a seat.
"Thanks," murmured Sybil. "Thanks—you are very good to me."
"Moloch, she is nearly dead! Have you got any wine? If you have, give it to me!" was the next request of the girl.
The giant lumbered off to a heap of miscellaneous luggage that lay in one corner, and from it he rooted out a black bottle, which he brought and put in the hands of the girl, saying:
"There! ha, ha, ha! there's some of her own old port! We made a raid upon Black Hall buttery last night, on purpose to provide for her."
"All right. Now a tin saucepan, and some sugar and spice, old Moloch! and also, if possible, a cup or tumbler," said Gentiliska.
The giant went back to the pile in the corner, and after a little search brought forth all the articles required by the girl.
"Now, good Moloch, go and do for old Hecate what you have done for me. Make her a fire, that she may have supper ready for the captain when he comes," coaxed Gentiliska.
"Just so, Princess," agreed the robber, who immediately confiscated another shutter, and carried it off into the adjoining back room to kindle the kitchen fire.