"Why did you not?" I asked in a surprise.
"I knew nought of them," she answered; "and I know this of you, that you are more honest than you seem, sir."
At that I laughed, though I will confess the wench took me by her talk, pretty parrot. "Well, you must know," I said, "that those were the officers of the law who watched you, and they would ha' been glad to lay hands on Dick Ryder."
"It may be," she replied thoughtfully. "But I regret not. There is that in your face I would rather trust."
At that I pulled in Calypso. "Look you!" said I, "who are you, and what do you here? I can get no ease of this puzzle. Are ye maid, saint or sinner?"
"Nay, but I am wife and maid, sir," says she, her face deepening with colour; "I am the Mistress Barbara Crawford, that was wed this day at Midhurst."
"What!" cried I, "you are wed this day!"
"Indeed," says she, "'tis so; and now am I stolen away and like to be no longer what I am."
"Where is your husband?" I asked sharply, fixing her with my eyes.