"Well, make your mind easy, child," said Lawrence. "That's not the plan this time anyhow. 'Tis quite a different sort of one."
"Then there is a pian?"
"Something of one; though hang me if I can make head or tail of it!" he said wearily. "They jangle over it so. One's for this way, and one for that."
"And you, Lawrence?"
"I serve but to count with, child. Master Rumbold would have me in it," he said with a shrug.
"And after some poor fashion he has you; but not your heart, I doubt," said Ruth.
"Nay; perhaps I had not it to spare," he said, gazing down with rather a sad smile at her sweet, attent face, which was brightening a little; "and if I consented to be one of their lot, it was but to keep friends with him."
A little royalist.
"'Twould have been more friendly of you to have been his enemy," sighed Ruth. "Had he asked such a thing of me, I would have defied him. Ay, but I would, Lawrence. Mayhap an 'I'll turn no such traitor, Master Rumbold!' from you, Lawrence, would have saved him from this falling back into the old terrible ways. When I think," shudderingly went on Ruth, "that my father—my kind, loving father, who calls me ladybird, and such sweet, merry names—was the same who stood guard by King Charles's block, and looked on while his bleeding head fell, it makes me dream such dreadful dreams that I start up screaming in my sleep. Lawrence, I would you had defied him."
"He would never have spoken to me again, Ruth, if I had," answered the young man; "and he would have forbidden me ever to see you, or speak to you again."