"Ned, I never yet asked aught of thee and was refused," she pleaded.
"Hold thy peace, child! I cannot take thee—and I will not."
Her eyes filled with tears; it was as idle, she could see, to turn him from his refusal as to hold him back from Wildwater.
"There! I was harsh with thee. Never heed it, bairn," he said, looking toward the courtyard where already he could hear the fretful pawing of horses, the rattle of scabbards as his folk sprang into the saddle, the gruff cries of the stable-men.
A thought came to him, then. He fingered the dagger at his belt, in absent fashion, and turned to ask Mistress Wayne if the room where Janet was prisoned was easy to be found.
"I could show it to thee if thou would'st take me," she said, with a child's subtlety.
"Wilt make me curse thee, bairn? Where is the room, I say?"
"It—it lies fair on the bridle-way. 'Tis the only chamber on that side the house."
"So Janet learned their secret, and they held her back from warning us," he muttered. "What if the day goes against us? Peste! I never asked myself so mean a question before I had two lives to think for."
"Ned! Where art thou?" cried Rolf from the courtyard. "There's thy mare here, kicking all to splinters because thou wilt not mount her."