Rufus answered him with an impatience that was almost anger. “No, no,” he said; “I have no hunger. Stay your stomachs swiftly, friends.”
He turned again to Brilliana, and stood opposite to her in silence till Halfman and the Cavaliers had quitted the hall. Then Brilliana spoke.
“Well, good news or bad?”
“Bad,” Rufus answered. “Your cousin Randolph is a captive.”
Brilliana gave a little cry of regret.
“Bad news, indeed! How did it chance?”
“In the battle,” Rufus answered. “The King’s standard-bearer was slain and the King’s flag fell into the rebel hands.”
Brilliana clasped her hands with a sigh, and would have spoken, but Rufus stayed her, hurrying on with his tale.
“That could not be endured, dear lady. So in the dusk Randolph and I put orange scarfs about us that we might be taken for rogues of Essex’s regiment, and so, unchallenged, slipped into the enemy’s camp. Dear fortune led me to the tent of Lord Essex, and there I found his secretary sitting and gaping at the precious emblem. I snatched it from his fingers and made good my escape, gaining great praise from his Majesty when I laid the sacred silk at his feet.”