“Yes, yes. I shall meet with no difficulty, you may be sure. You have already talked too much, and the doctor will censure me. Good-bye, Tom. Get speedily well, and that will be my reward, for I swear to you, by our father’s memory, that my hand shall give into Cromwell’s the King’s parchment.” Kissing him again she tore herself away from him.
“Send Armstrong to me,” were his parting words to her.
Armstrong entered the room shortly after Frances had left it.
“This will never do,” cried the Scot cheerily. “The doctor is in despair over the time your sister spent with you, and he is at this moment chiding her. Me he has threatened with direst penalties if I exceed a scant minute. So I shall just have to bid you farewell and be off, wishing you quick recovery.”
“Armstrong,” said the boy huskily. “My sister must take to the Oxford road and remedy my default. Will you be her comrade there and back?”
“As faithfully as ever belted knight attended fair lady,” replied Armstrong, his eyes suddenly ablaze with joy.
“John will attend her, and I am sure your good sword will protect her if need be.”
“You may take oath on that.”
“I give you the pass which is safe-conduct for you both, and I think it will serve to cover John as well. If not, your own might shield him as far as Manchester.”
“My own will shield me as far as Manchester, and this will, more appropriately, convey your sister and her servant.”