"What does this mean?" I said sternly. "Whither do you ride at such an hour?"
She was speechless.
"Elsin! Elsin! If you had wit enough to hide Sir Peter's pistols, render them to me now. Delay may mean my ruin."
She stood at bay, eying me, uncertain but defiant.
"Where are they?" I urged impatiently.
"He shall not fight that man!" she muttered. "If I am the cause of this quarrel I shall end it, too. What if he were killed by Walter Butler?"
"The pistols are beneath your mattress!" I said suddenly. "I must have them."
Quick as thought she placed herself between me and the bed, blue eyes sparkling, arms wide.
"Will you go?" she whispered fiercely. "How dare you intrude here!"
Taken aback by the sudden fury that flashed out in my very face, I gave ground.