“Which is very well,” says I, “as, all things considered, sir—well, all things considered, sir—that is, at least, I think it’s very well. And as you love me, sir, I would have you steal out through the window of this room, creep across the park into the wood, and I will meet you there in half an hour with money, a disguise, and such like necessaries.”
“And my promise to the Captain, madam?”
“The Captain is your enemy,” says I. “He seeks to kill you.”
He shook his head in defiance of my open anger.
Now here was a point that I never could distinguish. Why, in the first place, the Captain should have dared to trust a desperate rebel upon his simple word, was beyond my understanding; again, why, when his enemy had been fool enough to do so, that rebel did not profit by this credulity was even greater mystery. Of course I have heard soldiers talk about their “honour,” and I had lately learnt to know that his “honour” was the one flaw in the complete armour of that worldling, my papa; but for my life I cannot see why a man should extend more consideration to it than he would, as in this present case of young Anthony, to death itself. And certainly I think that there is never a woman of us all that, being put in his tight place, but would have stretched her word a point. Bab Gossiter herself would have done so, I can promise you.
Still the prisoner was obdurate. And if he, of all persons, refused to connive at his own escape, verily his case was dark. But there was one other. Who knew but that after all he might relent a little under the fire of my eyes? The Captain had flinched before their powers once; perchance he might again.
“My lad,” I said, turning to the prisoner, “wait here till I return. I wish to speak a few words with the Captain.”
“On my behalf?” says he.
“Oh, no,” says I, promptly; for did I not know his disposition was peculiar? Even as I went, however, I could see that he did not set much value on my word, and it was a nice question whether he had accepted it.
I found the Captain sitting before the library fire. The blaze playing on his face showed it sombre and deeply overcast with thought. When I entered alone a visible embarrassment took hold of him, and I believe it was because he had noted the red and inflamed appearance of my eyes.