“I ought to be; since I ha’ got to be theer myself, along wi’ Dick Dancey, to look to the gentlemen’s horses. A big crowd o’ ’em there’ll be for the two o’ us to manage: as the gentlemen be comin’ without theer grooms. But what was it, Master?” inquired the woodman, returning to the torturing thought that was still uppermost; “You sayed you knowed somethin’ as happened atween Bet Dancey an’ him? If he’s been an’ done it, then, dang me—I’ll keep my threet, if I shud ha’ to swing for it!”
“Done what?”
“Made a fool o’ Bet—that’s what I meean. What is it ’t ye know, Mister Captain? Please to tell me that!”
“Well, then,” replied the tempter, speaking slowly and deliberately—as if to find time for the concoction of some plausible tale. “For myself, I can’t say I know anything—that is, for certain—I have only heard—altogether by accident, too—that your Maid Marian was seen—out in the woods with a gentleman—and at a very unreasonable hour of the night.”
“What night?” gasped the woodman.
“Let me see! Was it the night of the fête? No. It was the next after—if I remember aright.”
“Damn her! The very night I war gone over to Rickmans’orth wi’ them letters. Augh!”
“I shouldn’t have known it was this fellow Holtspur: as the person who gave me the information didn’t say it was him. It was only told me that the man—whoever he might be—was dressed in fine velvet doublet, with a beaver and black plumes; but from what I’ve seen myself, and what you’ve just now told me, I think it very likely that the black horseman was the individual. It was in the woods—near Stone Dean—where they were seen. You say he lives there. It looks suspicious, don’t it?”
“’Twar him! I know it—I be sure o’t. Augh! If I don’t ha’ revenge on him, and her too! Dang the deceitful slut! I will! I will!”
“Perhaps the girl’s not so much to blame. He’s a rich fellow—this Holtspur, and may have tempted her with his money. Gold goes a great way in such matters.”