"Indeed I agree with thee, Lady Hazel. 'Tis not the life which best suits thee nor me."
She turned with a start and there, leaning over the back of the bench upon which she was sitting, stood Catesby. A smile was upon his face as he noted her startled expression. His right arm he still carried in a sling, and the sleeve of his doublet hung loose at his side.
"Well, sir, by what right dost thou come aspying upon ladies?" asked Hazel, as she arose and gazed upon him haughtily, and curled her lip in scorn.
"'Twas Cupid led me here, fair lady. Deform not that lovely mouth with such a scornful sneer; those lips of thine were never made for other purpose than the tender work of kissing." Then, as she turned her back and started to leave him, he hurried around the bench and stood in front of her, thus compelling her to stop.
"Stand aside, thou impudent cur, or thou shalt regret thine act," said Hazel, as she commenced to be frightened.
"Why, thou wilt not kill me with those flashes from thine eyes?" asked the scoundrel, as he stood and smiled in her face.
"No, but thou shalt answer for it to the one which made thee to wear thine arm, as best becomes thee—in a noose, and where thy neck should be."
"Ho, ho! sets the wind there? I might have known so much," said he, as he sneered, and shrugged his one sound shoulder.
"Be assured sir, thou shalt know more ere thou hast heard the last of this," said my dear maid, as she again turned to leave the knave.
"Nay, not so fast, my fair one. In sooth you escape not so;" and he tried to seize her by the arm.