"And Mr. Thomas Pownal," said Faith, smiling, observing she hesitated.
"Yes, and Mr. Pownal; I am sure they would all be happy to spend a great deal of breath and a little money in your service. They will protect Father Holden. What are the gentlemen good for, if they cannot grace a fair lady thus far?"
"And Mistress Anne, should they fail, would, like another Don Quixote, with lance in rest, charge the enemy, and release the captive knight, herself," said her father, pinching her cheek.
"Like Amadis de Gaul, father, and then would I present the captive of my sword and lance to you, Faith, though what you would do with him I do not know."
"Do not let us hear of swords and lances from you, Anne," said her mother. "Thimbles and needles become you better."
"If I had been a man," exclaimed Anne, "and lived in the olden time, how I would have gloried in such an adventure! You, Faith, should have been the distressed damsel, I the valorous knight, and Father Holden a captured seneschal. How would I have slashed around me, and how would you have blushed, and hung about my neck, and kissed me, when I appeared leading by the hand your venerable servitor!"
"What! what!" cried her father, "before the seneschal?"
"He would be so old he could not see, or, if he was not, tears of joy would fill his eyes so that they would blind him," said Anne.
"An excellent idea, my dear," said Mrs. Bernard: "hand me my knitting-work."
"What! a knight hand knitting-work?"