"But, sir," said De Guerre, in no degree overawed by the imperative manner of Major Wellmore, "I, at least, care not for the Protector, nor am I to be baffled of my just revenge by any of his officers."
"Wouldst fight with me, then?" inquired the Major, with much good temper, and placing himself between the opponents.
"If it so pleasure you," replied the youth, abating not a jot of his determination; "when I have made this treacherous and false fellow apologise to the Lady Constance, and afterwards to me, for his unproved and unprovoked words."
During the parley, Constance had remained fixed and immovable; but a new feeling now seemed to animate her, as she approached, and, clinging to Major Wellmore's arm for support, spoke in an audible but tremulous voice,—
"Walter, I entreat, I command you to let this matter rest. I shall not debase myself by condescending to assert, what Sir Willmott Burrell ought, and does believe—that I came not here to meet you by any appointment. I say his heart tells him, at this moment, that such a proceeding would be one of which he knows I am incapable."
"If any reflection has been made upon Mistress Cecil," observed Major Wellmore, "I will be the first to draw steel in her cause. Sir Willmott, explain this matter.—Young sir," he continued, noting Walter's ire and impatience, "a soldier's honour is as dear to me as it can be to you."
Burrell felt and appeared exceedingly perplexed; but with his most insinuating manner, and a tremulous voice, he replied:—
"Mistress Cecil will, I hope, allow for the excess of affection that gave rise to such needless jealousy. On consideration, I perceive, at once, that she would not, could not, act or think in any way unworthy of herself." He bowed profoundly, as he spoke, to Constantia, who clung still more closely to Major Wellmore's arm, and could hardly forbear uttering the contempt she felt; at every instant, her truthful nature urged her to speak all she thought and knew, to set Burrell at defiance, and hold him up to the detestation he merited: but her father, and her father's crime! the dreadful thought sent back the blood that rushed so warmly from her heart in icy coldness to its seat; and the high-souled woman was compelled to receive the apology with a drooping head, and a spirit bowed almost to breaking by intense and increasing anguish.
"And you are satisfied with this!" exclaimed the Cavalier, striding up to her; "you, Constance Cecil, are satisfied with this! But, by Him whose unquenchable stars are now shining in their pure glory over our heads, I am not!—Coward! coward! and liar! in your teeth, Sir Willmott Burrell! as such I will proclaim you all through his majesty's dominions, by word of mouth and deed of sword!"
"Walter, Walter!" exclaimed Constance, clasping her hands.