Henge staggered to his feet with a muttered curse, and groped about for his sword.
Old Madam pointed to the path that led from the palace.
“Look you, Barton Henge,” she said; “here be men enough to lay you by the heels, and if you stir a finger, your throat will be slit, despite this gentleman who spares you. Go!—and swiftly, for my fingers itch to rap your pate again, you villain!”
“A curse upon you!” answered Henge, as he prepared to obey, having no alternative; “for once you have outwitted me, but the devil take me if you do it again!”
My lady laughed a shrill, discordant laugh.
“He hath you, friend,” she said; “go to the wizard’s house upon the Thames and worship him!”
Henge gave her a strange look and walked sullenly away without a reply.
“’Twas a chance thrust,” said Lady Crabtree, “but it hit—some deviltry is brewing in that hole, and I be not mistaken.”
CHAPTER XVII
BETTY AND HER CHAMPION
Raby would gladly have parted with old Madam at once and made his way on foot to the palace, for he did not wish to be seen in his disordered dress, and there was blood, too, on his face, from a slight cut upon his forehead. But she was not of the same mind; she would not let him go back alone after his encounter, but scolded and badgered him in her own fashion, until she forced him into her barge. And there she questioned him sharply, trying to draw from him the cause of the attack which Henge had made; but she failed. Simon kept his own counsel; he was as determined to keep Betty’s name out of the matter as the old woman was resolved to trace it back to her, for she had suspected at once the true state of affairs. It was an encounter of wits, for old Madam was as keen as a needle, and Raby was no fool. Back and forth the subject went, thrust and parry, until the boat stopped at the water-stairs, and there Simon lost no time in making his escape. Lady Crabtree was bound for London, intending to return at noon to Greenwich; so he evaded her, at least for a season. Waving his adieu, he turned from the river and made his way swiftly toward a side entrance of the palace. The morning was now well advanced, and avoiding a group of courtiers, he came at last to the quadrangle court; and here, to his surprise, he met Mistress Carew. She had just come out, roused from her slumbers by her anxieties, and a glance at Raby told her the story of his morning journey. Her quick eye detected the blood that he had failed to wipe away entirely, and she stopped him with an imperious gesture.