Sir Rufus would fain have protested, would fain have carried his point, but he saw that in the face of her whom it was his heart’s desire to please which reduced him to sullen obedience. He shrugged his shoulders. “As you please,” he muttered, as he returned the gun to Thoroughgood and, turning on his heel to hide his vexation, joined his comrades, who seemed all to share, discomfited, in his rebuke, and to deprecate the anger of Brilliana. Brilliana went up to the table, and, poising herself against it by pressing the palms of her hands on its surface, looked with gracious entreaty into the grave eyes of Evander, who lowered his sword in respectful greeting.
XII
A USE FOR A PRISONER
“Sir,” said Brilliana, “if you give me your parole you shall have the freedom of Harby.”
Evander made her a ceremonious bow.
“Lady, you seem to me to be the only true gentleman on your side of this quarrel, so I will give you my word and my sword.”
Holding his sword by the blade, he extended it across the table to Brilliana, whose hand caught its hilt with the firm grasp of one to whom the manage of arms was not unfamiliar. As she stepped back with her trophy Evander pushed the table aside to afford him passage from his alcove, and, saluting the lady, took his former place between his warders. Brilliana returned his salutation with a murmured “It is well.” Rufus, disengaging himself from the knot of discomfited Cavaliers, moved towards her and addressed her with faintly restrained impatience.
“In Heaven’s name,” he begged, “set this Cantwell on one side if you tender him so precious. I have private news for you.”