"Only to have a talk with your prisoner," I replied. "I was curious to see the beauteous maid who hates you."
I hit him hard there, and he lost his temper.
"Look'ee, Roger Trevanion," speaking quickly and angrily for the first time, "what is the meaning of this masquerade? The Trevanions are Protestants. Why did you come here, pretending to be a Catholic? Why did you climb to the roof? You are a woman-hater."
"Only for a wager," I laughed.
"Mark this!" he cried,—"there are dungeons here as well as battlements."
"So I have heard. And it would be just like a Killigrew to throw a guest into one of them."
"Guest!" he answered with a sneer.
"Yes, guest," I replied.
"You have forfeited your right to that name."
"Prove it. Is it an uncommon thing for a man to travel under a name other than his own?"