“No, no; listen!” exclaimed Moll, frantically, as the noise grew louder. “They’re in the entry.”
“In the entry!” stammered Nell; and she almost collapsed at the thought of more adventures. “I wish we were in bed, with our heads under the sheet.”
“Here is your sword,” said Moll, as she brought Nell the sharp weapon, held well at arm’s length for fear of it.
“Oh, yes, my sword!” exclaimed Nell, perking up–for an instant only. “I never thought of my sword; and this is one of the bravest swords I ever drew. I am as weak as a woman, Moll.”
“Take heart,” said Moll, encouraging her from the rear, as Nell brandished the glittering blade in the direction of the door. “You know you faced an army to-night.”
“True,” replied Nell, her courage oozing out at her finger-tips, “but then I was a man, and had to seem brave, whether I was or no. Who’s there?” she called faintly. “Who’s there? Support me, Moll. Beau Adair is on his last legs.”
Both stood listening intently and trembling from top to toe.
A score of rich voices, singing harmoniously, broke upon the night.
The startled expression on Nell’s face changed instantly to one of fearless, roguish merriment. She was her old self again. She tossed the sword contemptuously upon the floor, laughing in derision now at her companion’s fear.
“A serenade! A serenade!” she cried. “Moll–Why, Moll, what feared ye, lass? Come!” She ran gaily to the window and peeped out. “Oh, ho, masqueraders from the moon. Some merry crew, I’ll be bound. I am generous. I’ll give thee all but one, sweet mouse. The tall knight in white for me! I know he’s gallant, though his vizor’s down. Marry, he is their captain, I trow; and none but a captain of men shall be captain of my little heart.”