“Up, up!” cried she, in a low voice; “up and begone. You must do no more mischief to-night.”
Ben continued to swear, but he obeyed her, getting up slowly and with difficulty, and meekly suffering her to strip off his coat, which she put into his hands, telling him to get the hostess of the Frigate to cleanse it for him. This command also he took with docility; but once more catching sight of Tregenna as he turned to re-enter the inn, he shook his fist at him, and growled out something which sounded like a threat of settling arrears between them on some future occasion.
When he had disappeared within the hospitable doors of the Frigate, whence issued a great noise of singing, shouting, and hoarse laughter, Ann turned with some appearance of impatience to the lieutenant.
“Why are you not with your friends, the soldiers, searching the parson’s house, yonder?” she asked shortly.
He did not tell her the truth, that he was suspicious of her, and was keeping watch on her movements, wondering for whom she was waiting. He only said—
“There are enough of them to perform that simple office. And I am loath to incommode Mistress Joan, by forcing upon her more intruders than can do the task there is to do.”
“Nay, then, you should return to your ship, sir; for there be a wild sort of characters about to-night, and none too sober. Your person is known, too, and you may chance to get a bullet through you, which will further neither the king’s cause nor your own, I reckon.”
“I thank you for the advice, mistress,” said Tregenna, who was more interested in this grave woman with the quiet manners, low voice, and tranquil air of authority, the more he saw of her. “But ’tis my business to carry my life in my hand; and truly the vicinity of a woman as quick of eye and ready of hand as yourself is as safe a one as I could wish.”
But Ann Price shook her head. “I might not always be so fortunate,” said she. “Besides, I must be stirring myself. I have another two miles to trudge to get to my mother’s home.”
“If my escort would be any protection to you, which, perhaps, you would deny, me-thinks ’twould be less hazardous than a walk across a wild road alone.”