"I shudder to think what might have happened," said Prue gravely, "had their arrival been less well-timed."
"Spare your tremors, my dearest," replied Sir Geoffrey, rather nettled by her tone. "You surely do not think that Will and I were in any peril from half-a-dozen highwaymen? To say nothing of our men, who were both sturdy rustics and had served in the West-Riding Yeomanry. I vow I was disappointed at the interruption, and would rather have taken Robin Freemantle with my pistol at his ear, than pulled him out of a ditch with the help of a constable."
"Robin Freemantle!" the two ladies exclaimed simultaneously. Then the blood rushed so tumultuously to Prue's face, that she was thankful for the dim light that hid her confusion.
"What! was it he that assailed you on Bleakmoor? The fellow is ubiquitous!" cried Sir Geoffrey. "I will not forget to add this to his other crimes, when I am witness on his trial. The man who has dared to attack the fairest lady in England—the protégée of her Grace of Marlborough—should be drawn and quartered; hanging is too good for him."
"Sir Geoffrey! I forbid you to mention my name!" she exclaimed, in a great flutter. "It may not be the same man—besides, he took nothing from us, did he, Peggie? Nothing, that is to say of any—any—"
"My dear Prudence—the mere fact of his attacking you would rouse the country," cried her lover, rather pompously. "It would have more effect upon the jury than a dozen ordinary highway robberies—"
"I do not wish to rouse the country," interrupted Prue. "What! am I to be discussed by lawyers and jurymen, and lampooned, forsooth, in the Flying Post! My grandmother would never forgive it—"
"Dearest Prue, pardon me for suggesting anything that could for one moment distress you; it was but my eagerness to punish the scoundrel for his crimes. Let us relegate him to oblivion. Such subjects are not for the lips and ears of Beauty. Tell me, sweet Prue, when may I hope to see Lady Drumloch and implore her sanction to my suit?"
"I have already broken the matter to her," replied Prue, "but, as we anticipated, without any great success, at present. She is, as you know, an ardent Jacobite and can not be expected to approve your politics, which are considerably more important to her than my happiness. Mayhap, when she becomes acquainted with you she may blame me less. You must exercise your eloquence on her as you did on me," she added, with a coquettish smile, "and then I think I can safely leave our cause in your hands. My prayers shall accompany you, and if necessary we will kneel side by side and implore the ancestral benediction."
CHAPTER IV