'Oh! Masther Richard! by this cross!—you won't believe me—'tis as true as you're standin' there—until she said it to Miss Lily—'
'Hold your tongue!' cried Devereux, so fiercely, that she thought him half wild; 'do you think 'tis a pin's point to me which of you first coined or uttered the lie? Listen to me; I'm a desperate man, and I'll take a course with you both you'll not like, unless you go to-morrow and see Dr. Walsingham yourself, and tell him the whole truth—yes, the truth—what the devil do I care?—speak that, and make the most of it. But tell him plainly that your story about my having promised to marry you—do you hear—was a lie, from first to last—a lie—a lie—without so much as a grain of truth mixed up in it. All a cursed—devil's—woman's invention. Now, mind ye, Miss Nan, if you don't, I'll bring you and your mother into court, or I'll have the truth out of you.'
'But there's no need to threaten, sure, you know, Masther Richard, I'd do anything for you—I would. I'd beg, or I'd rob, or I'd die for you, Masther Richard; and whatever you bid me, your poor wild Nan 'ill do.'
Devereux was touched, the tears were streaming down her pale cheeks, and she was shivering.
'You're cold, Nan; where's your cloak and riding hood?' he said, gently.
'I had to part them, Masther Richard.'
'You want money, Nan,' he said, and his heart smote him.
'I'm not cold when I'm near you, Masther Richard. I'd wait the whole night long for a chance of seeing you; but oh! ho—(she was crying as if her heart would break, looking in his face, and with her hands just a little stretched towards him), oh, Masther Richard, I'm nothing to you now—your poor wild Nan!'
Poor thing! Her mother had not given her the best education. I believe she was a bit of a thief, and she could tell fibs with fluency and precision. The woman was a sinner; but her wild, strong affections were true, and her heart was not in pelf.
'Now, don't cry—where's the good of crying—listen to me,' said Devereux.