At this her ladyship’s black eyes sparkled with wrath, but those near by saw her proud chin quiver,—a sign she was weakening.
For several moments there was silence.
The students looked preternaturally grave. The waiting soldiers smiled. Lord Christopher folded his arms on his breast, rolled his eyes up to the ceiling of the chair, and sighed. The voices of Master Ronald and the Governor, inside the house, could be heard distinctly.
This painful calm was suddenly broken by a shrill little voice above their heads.
“Why don’t ye take the door off’n its hinges and put it in the house?”
All looked up. There, leaning out of the second-story window, was a small excited maiden, unable to contain longer her anxiety at Lord Christopher’s threat that her friend might go hang.
On beholding her, the students cheered, the soldiers laughed openly, and the slaves showed all their white teeth in delight.
“These Puritan children are wondrous blest with sense and wit,” quoth Lord Christopher.
“Bring a wrench,” ordered Lady Phipps. Thus the painful affair was happily solved.