"Have we not met before this, sir?" asked Ravenshaw, scrutinising Ermsby.
"My memory is but so-so," replied Sir Clement, quizzically.
"Before God, I think we have," said the captain, "and upon opposite sides, too, as we are now. Would I could remember! I have had so many quarrels, so many foes. I could swear you and I had clashed once upon a time."
Sir Clement, who remembered the meeting well enough, merely smiled as if amused at the captain's puzzlement. Ravenshaw drew a stool to the doorway, and sat down, weapons still in hand. Sir Clement was leaning back against the table, at the opposite side of the hall, with folded arms. He made mirth for himself by suggesting various impossible places where the captain might have met him; while Jerningham, ever keeping the corner of his eye on his enemy, went back and held a whispered conversation with Meg.
"Fear not," said Jerningham, heeding the peremptory question in her eyes. "The maid is in yonder room. This captain, by a strange chance, knows her as one he hath designs against. He would neither have her go free, nor taken back to her father. He thinks to find her at his mercy. But we shall outwit him, and no more fighting. 'Tis for you to—"
"One would think he was her friend," said Meg, glancing toward the captain.
"Poh! she fears him as he were the devil."
"Does he, then, desire her?" queried Meg, with a curious feigned unconcernedness of tone and look.
Jerningham regarded her with the silence of sudden discovery; then, restraining a smile, said, watchfully: "He is another's instrument, I think. Such a man's fancy would ne'er light upon a child; she is little more. A woman of your figure were more to his liking, I'll wager." He paused, to observe Meg's blush, which was not resentful; then he added, significantly: "If a woman were minded to make a fresh trial of life, with a brave husband now—"
"Well, and what then?" said she, looking him frankly in the eyes. "How if a woman were? The man is not seeking a wife, ten to one."