Miss started. "Oh!" she cried, and "you must go, oh, you must go, sir! Fly, fly, while there is time."
Here were the two culprits in unison for my withdrawal, which would fetch them out of a scrape, yet how far the girl was involved in the business I had not yet determined. So I pushed her further, as, indeed, I had the right. I folded my arms.
"I am waiting my reward, madam," I said, "something in recognition of my efforts on behalf of yourself and Sir Philip."
But at this she fell into a greater exhibition of distress, imploring me to go, and flitting in agitation 'twixt me and the door, on which she kept anxious watch. Well, thought I, if here's not innocence at least she's in a pickle enough, and I believe I would have gone had it not been for York, whose bearing annoyed me. Besides, I wanted to see how far miss would go, and if her resolution to veil the truth would stand out against the watch and a poor victim haled to prison. Not that I wanted the watch or the law about me nearer than was necessary, for sundry reasons, but I can always trust to my own ingenuity and sword if it comes to the pinch. So I listened to her deafly, and made no sign to go.
"Let him be, Lydia," says York, pleasantly. "He's an obstinate fellow, and, faith, deserves his fate. Let him hang; I'll warrant it must have come to that some day."
But this turns me on him, and I whipped out my blade again in a fury at his insolence; only Miss Lydia intervened, and, her face very pale, put a hand on my arm.
"Oh, sir," says she, very low of voice, but clear and earnest for all that, "I beg you will not suffer further harm to come to-night. Indeed, but I am ashamed to look you in the face. I will not excuse myself—I will offer no apologies, yet, maybe, you will not think too hardly of me if you know more. My guardian keeps me close. He stands in my way, and will not allow me what is allowed all women. I am not a schoolgirl, sir. I am grown a height," and she raised herself to her full stature. "Surely I may have that liberty to command, to choose where I will and whom. Sir, he has sought to make himself all the law to me," she cries, with heaving bosom. "And as for his hurt, God knows I did not wish it, and was not privy to it," and she cast a glance, as I thought, of scorn and reproach at her lover. The eloquence of this new attitude struck me to the reins, tender as I ever was to the wounds of women, though not to be frustrated or deceived by vain pretences.
"He is a hog," says I, "a pig of a man to interfere with you, madam."
But here spoke York, when he had better have held his tongue, yet it was impossible.