“Mon ami,” he said at last, “I’ve shot my bolt and lost. There was never so heartless a maid since the world began.”
“Tush, dear man! Must ye be forever thinking of the girl? A wench is a wench in England or Ameriky.”
Mornay arose and put his hands frankly upon the other’s shoulders.
“I’ll go with you, my good friend, where you please—after to-night.”
“Ay, and to-night—ye may go to the devil—”
“’Tis so. I have an appointment with Captain Ferrers at the Fleece for eleven.”
Cornbury’s face fell.
“Egad, man, ye’re incorrigible! And d’ye think he’ll meet ye?”
“I don’t know. He may not, alone. But I think that he will, in company. If he does, I’ll not fail him.”