“Did they treat her harshly,” he asked,—“my little sister, who since her mother died, has been a lone lassie despite her father and brother. Tell me again, again that it be not until to-morrow,—that one day yet of grace remains.”
So Abigail told him all she knew. But when he desired to see the letter she was to give to the Cavalier, she protested:—
“I promised not to read it myself nor to let any other body, except him, for Deliverance said it must be kept secret, she being engaged on a service for the King. She said when I found ye, ye would go with me to look for the fine gentleman.”
“Very well, we will go,” he answered briefly, and took her hand, seeing that it would only trouble her then to insist upon having the letter, but resolving to obtain possession of it at the first opportunity.
“We will go to the Governor’s house, first,” he added, “and see if he knows the whereabouts of any such person. If not, then I must read the letter and find the clue to unravel this sad mystery.”
Master Ronald walked on rapidly, holding her hand in so tight a grasp that she was obliged to run to keep up with him. They soon left the Common and entered a street. There were no sidewalks then in Boston Town. The roadways, paved with pebbles, extended from house to house. They took the middle of the street where the walking was smoothest. Once Master Ronald paused to consider a sun-dial.
“It lacks o’er an hour of ten,” he said; “we shall be obliged to wait. The new Governor is full of mighty high-flown notions fetched from England, and will see no one before ten, though it be a matter of life and death. It sorts not with his dignity to be disturbed.” He glanced down at Abigail as he finished speaking, and for the first time took notice that she was tired and pale.
“Have you broken fast this morn?” he inquired; “I should have bethought me of your lack. There is yet ample time, and you must eat. Come,” he added, taking her hand again and smiling, “it is good for neither soul nor body that the latter should go hungered. The Queen’s coffee-house lies just around yon corner.”
A few moments later Abigail found herself seated at a table in a long, dark room, very quiet and cool, with vine-clad windows. Only one other customer besides themselves was in the room. He was an old gentleman in cinnamon-brown small-clothes, and he was so busy sipping a cup of coffee and reading a manuscript, that he did not glance up at their entrance. The inn-keeper’s buxom wife received Master Ronald’s order. Quite on her own account she brought in also a plate of cookies.