"My life is naught, if I can but save thee from that monster, sweet mistress; but oh, if it might be by another way!"
"Nay, say not so; methinks now this is the best, the sweetest way. I shall the sooner find him, who will surely be waiting for me upon the farther shore. One blow, and I shall be free for ever. O Nat, this world is a sore place for helpless women to dwell in. Since he has gone, what is there for me to live for? I almost long for the hour which shall set my spirit free. They will let me see the Holy Father, who comes to wed us. I shall receive the Absolution and the Blessing; and methinks I am not unprepared. Death has no terrors for me: I have seen him come so oft in the guise of a friend. Nay, weep not, good Nat; the day will come when we all must die. Thou wouldst rather see me lying dead at thy feet than the helpless captive of the Sanghurst, as else I must surely be?"
"Ay, lady," answered the old man, between his shut teeth, "ten thousand times rather, else would not this fond hand strike the blow that will lay thy fair young head in the dust. But sooner than know thee the wife of yon vile miscreant, I would slay thee ten times over. Death is soon past -- death comes but once; but a life of helpless misery and agony, that I could not bear for thee. Let them do what they will to me, I will set thee free first."
Joan raised the strong, wrinkled hand to her lips and kissed it, before the old retainer well knew what she was doing. He withdrew it in some confusion.
"Good Nat, I know not how to thank thee; but what I can do to save thee I will. I do not think my father will suffer thee to be harmed if when I am dead thou wilt give him this packet I now give to thee. In it I have told him many things he would not listen to whilst I lived, but he will read the words that have been penned by a hand that is cold and stiff in death. To his old love for me I have appealed to stand thy friend, telling him how and why the deed has been done, and thy hand raised against me. I think he will protect and pardon thee -- I think it truly.
"How now, Nat? What seest thou? What hearest thou? Thy thoughts are not with me and with my words. What is it? Why gazest thou thus from the casement? What is there to see?"
"Armed men, my mistress -- armed men riding towards Basildene!" answered the old man, in visible excitement. "I have seen the sunlight glinting on their headpieces. I am certain sure there be soldiers riding to this very door. What is their business? How have they come? Ah, lady, my sweet mistress, pray Heaven they have come to set thee free! Pray Heaven they have come as our deliverers!"
Joan started and ran to the casement. She was just in time to see the flash of the November sunlight upon the steel caps of the last of the band of horsemen whose approach had been observed by Nat. Only a very small portion of the avenue leading to Basildene could be seen from these upper casements, and the riders must have been close to the house before their approach was marked by the old man.
Now Joan flung open the casement in great excitement, and leaned far out.
"Hark!" she exclaimed, in great excitement, "I hear the sound of heavy blows, and of voices raised in stern command."