Ellen still stood silent, her eyes were uplifted as if she sought a higher power to befriend her.
"You still demur, then I have nothing else for it. You will bear me witness"—addressing Johnny and Maude—"with what reluctance I used it."
So saying he stamped his foot on the floor—two harsh-looking men entered: one was short but broad-chested and immensely powerful in make; his face was a bad one, and his eye unrelenting and cruel. His fellow might have been a burly yeoman or farmer; in look more kindly than his neighbour, but even in his eye was little to reassure Ellen. Both were in the uniform of the watch. She looked at the three in breathless fear, then turning to the officer she said—
"I will go with you, sir. Send those bad, cruel men away."
"Begone," said the officer; they instantly departed. "Now, madam, fulfil your promise, and at once comply with my request. Once more I repeat you have nothing to fear from me."
Ellen, still willing to temporize, if by any means she could delay starting till her father came, said—
"You will at least suffer me to retire a moment to my room, and put on my shawl and bonnet."
She had formed the desperate resolve of leaping from her window, and running to Mr. Lennox's house for protection.
"I am grieved again to deny you this; my orders are express, not to allow you out of my sight."
"You are no gentleman," said Ellen, in her rage at this failure; "you are not even a man thus to treat a weak maiden."