“I got it,” she said. “The master’s cocked up sleepin’ by the kitchen fire. There was a man in his bed, or maybe twa, but I didna wake them.”
“Come back to me in half an hour,” said Maurice, “I may want your help. And listen, my lass, if you stand by me to-night I’ll see you safe afterwards. You shan’t want for a handful of silver or a bran new gown.”
“I want none of your siller nor your gowns,” said the girl. “I’ll lend ye a han’ because you’re a friend of the lad that’s the friend of Jemmy Hope.”
At about half-past twelve the sentry who stood in front of Neal’s cellar heard some one descend the stairs into the passage with shuffling steps. A slatternly girl with shoes so down at the heel that they clattered on the stone flags every time she lifted her feet, approached him. She rubbed her eyes and yawned like one lately wakened out of sleep. She carried a lantern in her hand.
“What do you want here?” said the man.
“The master sent me, sir, with another lamp. He was afeard the yin ye had would be out again the morn. There isna that much oil in it.”
“Your master’s civil,” said the man. “I’ve no fancy for standing sentry here in the dark. He’s a civil man, and I’ll speak a good word for him to-morrow to the captain. I hope you’re a civil wench like the man you serve.”
“Ay, amn’t I after fetchin’ the lamp till ye?”
“And a kiss along with it,” said the soldier. “Come now, you needn’t be coy, there’s none to see you.”
He put his arms round her waist and pulled her towards him.