Sir Willmott, thus run down on all sides, had now recourse to stratagem. After a brief pause, during which both Zillah and the preacher, as if having come to the same determination, kept silence, he said,—
"Well; perhaps it is best. Will you, Zillah, go with me to Cecil Place?"
"No!" was her reply. "I will meet you there; but I frankly tell you, I will not trust myself in your company under any roof, unless it be with many persons."
"Then come there at seven o' the clock this evening—and I swear——"
"I have no faith in your oaths—but I will trust to this man; and if he assures me that the accursed marriage shall not take place until I hold commune with the woman you would wed—safe, and undisturbed commune—I will leave you until night."
"Then I assure you of it," replied Fleetword; "and let this convince you of my truth, that I love the sweet lady, Constance Cecil, too well, to see her shadowed even by such dishonour as your words treat of.—Sir Willmott, Sir Willmott! you have shown the cloven foot!"
"Look out on the waters, Sir Willmott Burrell," shouted the Jewess, in her wild voice: "look out on the waters, and see the sail and the signal of the brave Buccaneer!"
Burrell looked anxiously, and earnestly; but he could perceive nothing of which she spoke. When he turned towards the spot where Zillah had stood—she was gone!
"All this is of the evil one," said Fleetword, after peering among the old walls, and approaching his nose so closely to the larger stones, that it might be imagined he was smelling, not looking at them.—"Whither has the creature escaped?"
"Verily, I know not," was Burrell's reply. "Best come with me into the Gull's Nest; I would speak with Robin."