“Worse that thy mother meant? Now what’s that riddle, child?”
“Mayhap I should not have told it again; but mother made the manchets and broiled the bird, while we had but bean soup and coarse bread for breakfast, because she said you’d go from here to prison and it might be to worse.”
“Said she so? Ha! is it resolved upon, then? But no, no, no! Winthrop and the rest would not dare, especially with Gorges at my back. I can make them see ’twould be but self-murther for them to give him and the council so excellent a weapon against them. There’s no danger, no danger of death, but I must write to Sir Ferdinando”—
“Is he at the Bay, sir, and will he serve you if you can make him know?” asked Betty eagerly; and the knight, who had forgotten her, turned with a sudden smile and uplifted eyebrows.
“What! we’re in council together, are we, Betty? Nay, Sir Ferdinando Gorges is in England, and— Come, now, child, I read thine honest eyes, and I know thou ’rt sorry for me, and would not add to my discomfort, hadst thou the chance of doing it.”
“Nay, sir, indeed and indeed I would not do so.”
“I am sure of it. Well, then, Betty, promise me thou’lt not say over again what just slipped my lips, and most particularly the name. I’ll be sworn thou hast even now forgotten”—
“Nay, sir, I’ve not forgotten; ’tis Sir Ferdinando Gorges that would befriend you, but he’s in England and may not be reached, but an the Bay does you an injury he’ll revenge it.”
“Thou hast too good a memory, Betty, and a wonderful quickness for thy years,” replied the knight, biting his lip, and staring almost angrily at the child. “Yet I must e’en trust thee. Thou’lt not lisp one word of that lesson thou hast so pat? Mind you, child, ’twas not meant for your ears!”