"Go up, Ned," said I; and to Philip, as I pointed to a chair, "Sit there, brother." And to Ned again: "If he but rise from his chair before you return, I will shoot him, as surely as you shall kill me after him. Is it primed?" I asked, for the pistol was of the pattern then coming into use, discharged by means of a falling flint. And he, taking it from my hand, and raising the dog, and peering into the pan for the priming, I added: "But he will not move, for he has done no wrong."
He put the weapon in my hand. "You will not fail me?" he asked, with a countenance very awful to see. For answer I looked once in his face. He turned and went swiftly through the little door and up the stair.
Philip, as I think, knew it was no vain threat that I had made. But I, believing his conscience clean, had little doubt of a willing captive.
The time passed unbroken with a word; hours it could not be, but whether minutes or seconds I do not know. And somewhere in the heart of my confidence there throbbed a little pricking pain of doubt. For, brother as he was, to me the man was yet a stranger. What if he were of those with whom all means are held lawful to the cherished end? Had not I, but an ignorant girl, done for one end what I had held base indeed for another? And for answer I clung to the stock of my weapon, and swore he should die if His Highness had suffered. For not only Drayton, but Royston honor also lay in the hollow of my hand. But I swore, too, that I would not long survive him; and, if Ned would do it, even death would not be wholly without sweetness.
At last a step was on the stair, and my eyes went again to the little door. And, when I saw his returning face, I laughed aloud.
"You may well laugh, Mistress Philippa," he said, sheathing the sword that had not, I suppose, left his hand since it had leapt from the scabbard on his first doubt of Philip, "for I was indeed a fool to doubt him." Then, turning to Philip: "I did you wrong, Drayton," he said; "the blame must lie on the evil company we did find you in."
"I should myself, I fear, doubt any man in such case," answered Philip.
With that they fell to considering what should be done. Philip was at first for returning to his chamber above. But Ned had already taken his resolution. Sir Michael, he said, should not, in the sweet evening of a life of honor, see his house come to shame. "You cannot, I do suppose," he continued, "bring proof or witness of your innocence in the matter?"
"He that alone could clear me," replied my brother, "is escaped. Moreover, I do not think he bears me any good-will."
"Then you must go," declared Royston, in accents very positive.