“I had forgot that he was mine enemy, mistress. Besides, I may have been somewhat unmannerly in my treatment of Master Devereaux, and it behooves me as a gentlewoman to make other recompense for his courtesy.”
“And say you so, Francis?” laughed Mrs. Shelton who considered the affair great sport. “Belike it be no unpleasant duty. But there, child! ’Tis little of entertainment thou hast, so make merry with the lad for I fear that he will not remain here long.”
“I fear so too,” answered Francis, and in her heart lay the unspoken wish that not only Devereaux’s time but her own might be short.
The days passed and Edward Devereaux 291 had not yet matured a scheme for their flight. June waxed and waned, and July was upon them. Then one day, when the girl had almost despaired of hearing him speak of the attempt again, Devereaux said to her in a low tone:
“Art thou willing to make the effort to-night, Francis?”
“To-night?” cried Francis thrilling at the thought. “Yea; to-night, Edward. But how?”
“Does Mrs. Shelton stay in your chamber at night?”
“Not now. Not since I recovered from mine illness.”
“And is there not a flight of steps leading to the roof?”
“Yes;” replied Francis surprised. “How knew you that?”