“Killed him? No! But I have killed his faith in woman, cozened him, lied to him, robbed him, to buy from you, with the name of your Maker on your lips, a life that you know was not forfeited, but which you had the power to destroy.”
“Ah, yes, yes, yes! I remember your tongue of old; but it may wag harmless now, for all of me. His life was forfeited; aye, and this Scot’s as well. But no matter now.”
He threw before her the pardon for her brother and his commission as captain, then strode out of the room to the head of the stair again, and she heard his strenuous voice:
“Hobson!”
“Here, Excellency.”
“Ride at once to the commandant at Banbury. Tell him the Scot goes free. Tell him to send word north, and see that he is not molested; but should he turn in his tracks and attempt to reach Oxford again, hold him and send word to me.”
“Yes, Excellency.”
“Send up a stoup of wine.”
He waited at the stair-head until the wine was brought, then took it into the room and placed it on the table before her.
“Drink,” he said.