“I have never seen this—this—this man ere now,” the woman faltered.
“You are lying, madam!” the landlord cried in his brutal manner; “and, my God! if you lie to me I will rescind my promise, and your husband shall be delivered within the hour into the hands of his enemies. And this fellow, Will Jackson, shall be given up also, as an aider and abettor of dangerous Royalists.”
The woman grew white to the lips.
“No, no; not that!” she moaned. “Not that! You will not be so cruel—so unmerciful.”
“Madam, I will not be trifled with,” said the landlord. “If you do not speak the truth to me, all three of you shall be given up.”
“Oh, sir,” she said, trembling like a reed in the wind, “it is indeed the truth. I beg you to believe me.”
“I never saw a worse hand at a lie,” said the landlord, with a sneer. “But, ’fore God! you shall pay for it. Joseph, do you come here instantly.”
The landlord summoned his son. That rather dismal youth obeyed his father’s call with a resentful alacrity.
“Madam,” said the landlord, “I give you one minute by this watch of mine in which to make your decision. Confess the truth, and the twenty-four hours’ respite holds good. Persevere in this monstrous falsehood, and you shall pay for it in your husband’s blood. I have never yet seen the man, let alone the woman, who could trifle with Gamaliel Hooker. And, sirrah, do you heed this also. As I’m a live man, you shall swing in a gibbet for this!”
The old man ended in a gust of fury that carried him away. He then said to his son: