"A cat may look at a king, Mistress Nancy, and no harm done either."
"You forget, Mr Fitzpatrick," replied Nancy, "that I am now a modest woman."
"More's the pity, Mrs Nancy, I wish you'd forget it too, and I dying of love for you."
Nancy walked away to the end of the platform to avoid further conversation. The day was now dawning, and as, by degrees, the light was thrown upon the face of Cornbury, it was strange to witness how his agitation and his fear had changed all the ruby carbuncles on his face to a deadly white. He called to Nancy Corbett in a humble tone once or twice as she passed by in her walk, but received no reply further than a look of scorn. As soon as it was broad daylight, Nancy went into the cave to call up the leader.
In a few minutes he appeared, with the rest of the smugglers.
"Philip Cornbury," said he, with a stern and unrelenting countenance, "you would have betrayed us for the sake of money."
"It is false," replied Cornbury.
"False, is it?--you shall have a fair trial. Nancy Corbett, give your evidence before us all."
Nancy recapitulated all that had passed.
"I say again, that it is false," replied Cornbury. "Where is the woman whom she states to have told her this? This is nothing more than assertion, and I say again, it is false. Am I to be condemned without proofs? Is my life to be sacrificed to the animosity of this woman, who wishes to get rid of me, because--"