"So, then, it is your work!" she said.
"My work?" quoth the captain, in a maze, dropping his chicken.
"No doubt you spied upon poor Master Holyday, and corrupted these rogues he trusted in," she went on; and then, giving way, she wept: "Oh, God! into whose hands have I fallen!"
Ravenshaw quailed at her tears; but suddenly stiffened himself, set down his lantern, and said wrathfully to Cutting Tom:
"What means this, knave? Why came you here? Where is—the gentleman you serve? Speak, thou slave, or by—"
But Millicent, coming swiftly out of her tears, cried, scornfully:
"Think not to blind me, thou villain! The gentleman is where you bade these wretches leave him,—in the woods, robbed,—mayhap slain! Alas, having seen his fate, what may I expect for myself!" And again she fell into lamentations.
"I understand this not," said Ravenshaw. "Cutting Tom, thou blundering hound, why bring you this maid to this place, and to me?"
"Oh, out upon pretense!" cried Millicent. "Thinkst thou I am so great a fool as not to see? God send I were Sir Peregrine's wife rather than such a villain's captive!"
"Mistress, I know not why you are here, nor what hath befallen Master Holyday. There is some mistake or falseness, which I shall worm out of this tongue-tied knave; but first assure yourself you are not my captive."