“Mistress Deliverance Wentworth,” quoth he, wagging his red beard at her, “children were not so illy brought up in my young days. They were reared in righteous fear of their elders and betters. But I have important business with you and no time to talk of froward children. Now, you will please tell me who taught you the lesson you repeat so well.”
Deliverance answered never a word.
Sir Jonathan regarded her anxiously. “I could go to the magistrate and have you forced to speak,” he said slowly, after awhile, “but ’tis a very private matter.” Suddenly a light broke over his countenance. “Ha, ha, my fine bird,” he cried, “I have caught you now! You saw the parchment with the royal seal I left with your father.”
“Good sir,” she answered wonderingly, “I wot not what ye mean.”
“You have been well taught,” he said, frowning.
“Ay, good sir,” she replied sincerely, “I have been most excellently taught.”
He puzzled long, shaking his head anon, gazing steadily at the ground.
“Mistress,” said he at last, looking up eagerly, “I had no thought of it before, but the man in the forest—who might he be? Ay, that is the question. Who was he? In velvet, with slashed sleeves, the old yeoman said. Come, come,” tapping the floor with his walking-stick, “who was this fine gentleman?”
Deliverance perceived he was greatly perturbed, as people are who stumble inadvertently upon their suspicions of the worst.