"It lies with yourselves. If you be minded to undo the villainy, to serve me in my protection of this maid—"
"We will, we will! and thank your good worship!" said Tom, quickly, and turned to his men with a look which elicited from them a chorus of confirmatory "ayes," supported by a variety of oaths.
"Then seize that man, till I pass with this lady," said Jerningham, in a decided tone. "To him, all of ye,—Meadows and Goodcole, too!"
Cutting Tom and his men drew their swords; having first attached their lanterns and torch to wall-sconces, and dropped the bundle of Holyday's clothes. The party advanced upon Ravenshaw, being joined by Meadows and Goodcole, which twain preferred wisely that the bearers of longer weapons should precede them into the captain's immediate neighbourhood. Tom himself went rather shufflingly, doubtless willing to give opportunity for any more impetuous comrade to be more forward in the matter. But the other men were no more eager than he to be first; and so the movement, beginning with some show of a fearless rush, deteriorated in a trice to a hesitating shamble. At two steps from the captain, the party came to a stop.
"Ho, dogs, will ye come dancing up to me so gaily?" cried Ravenshaw. "Dance back again as fast!" His rapier leaped out, and sang against three of their own blades in the time of a breath.
All seven of the men, appalled at his sudden onslaught, stepped hastily back. The captain strode forward. The fellows increased their backward pace. He followed. They turned in a kind of panic, and ran pell-mell for the front door. Laughing loudly at their retreat, Ravenshaw stopped, as he was in no mind to be drawn outside while Millicent remained within. At sound of his laugh, the fellows turned and stood about the doorway with their weapons in defence.
"Sir," said Ravenshaw, turning to Master Jerningham, "I pray you, look upon this maid; consider her youth and her innocence. Will you mar such an one a lifetime, to pleasure yourself an hour? As you are a gentleman, I ask you, give her up."
"Do not give me up to him!" she said, affrightedly, clinging closer to Jerningham.
Ravenshaw shook his head in sorrow. "Ah, mistress, that you should think I would harm you! If you but knew—but for what you think of me, no matter. 'Tis a cruel twist of circumstance that you should oppose him that would save you, and cleave to him that would destroy you. You would know how the affair stands, if there were a spark of truth to be found among these knaves and traitors. Oh, for a gleam of honesty! How foul falsehood looks when it has the whole place to itself!"
A whinny of impatience was heard from the horse waiting outside.