“On what conditions?” she asked, agitated with hopes and fears.
He smiled again, and drew closer to her.
“You are eager,” he replied. “The conditions are simple.”
“Name them then, if they are not dishonourable.”
“Bah! such a term is inadmissible to one in your position.”
“I think I gather something of your meaning,” she exclaimed, in alarm.
“My meaning should not be hard to understand. I offer you freedom if you will consent to go with me to my house, which is on the other side of the city.”
She recoiled from him with horror—with loathing. The blush of indignation dyed her face to the very roots of her hair.
“You are a villain,” she cried when she could speak, for the base proposal literally deprived her of breath. “A double-dyed, treacherous villain. I am an Englishwoman, and would suffer a thousand deaths sooner than yield to such an unmanly coward. Go away and leave me. Do not torture me with your loathsome presence any more. And I warn you that I will inform the King of your treachery.”
It was the man’s turn to be alarmed now. If she carried out her threat he knew what the consequences would be, for the King was merciless.