"And when I have liberated him and given him every opportunity to elude justice, what security have I that those papers will be delivered to me?" he demanded.
"I myself will be hostage for him. Send Steve with him and when he returns, having left his master in safety, I will hand you the packet. Does that satisfy you?"
Robin, sitting on the corner of a table, a little apart, could only guess from a word here and there that rose above the low-voiced colloquy, that Prue was making terms for him, the conditions of which it was not difficult to divine. Cruelly as it irked him to see her pleading with his bitter enemy for his life, he resisted the strong temptation to interfere, as he certainly would have done, could he have known that she was offering to remain a hostage to this unscrupulous man, until his safety had been purchased by her acknowledgment of their marriage. She was too well aware of that to admit him to the conference.
Lord Beachcombe, sullenly balancing pros and cons, found it no easy matter to decide between the gratification of his revenge upon Robin and the fear of losing what might be his last chance of securing the coveted documents.
It is impossible to say how long he might have fluctuated between two desires equally importunate, but it was at last borne in upon the sluggish current of his intelligence that the certificates were possibly that moment in the possession of Lady Prudence Brooke, who certainly would not hesitate to use them for his humiliation if he exasperated her.
"What will you do if I refuse?" he said at last.
"Then," said Prue, with spirit, "I shall go straight from here to the Duchess of Marlborough and lay the whole story—including the documents—before her. She has pledged herself to grant me any request I make of her, and will not consider the life of a highwayman too high a price to cancel her debt to me."
"The duchess is no longer the power behind the throne," said Beachcombe, with a scowl. "If you rely upon her influence—"
"I do not rely upon that alone," said Prue, retaining her patience with the greatest difficulty; "I will go to the queen herself and plead with her—oh! when I show her my heart, she can not resist the appeal of my prayers and tears—" She forgot for the moment where she was and who was her listener, and in imagination was already at the feet of her royal mistress. Beachcombe regarded the sapphire eyes sparkling through unshed tears and the piteous tumult of the lovely bosom beneath the laces of her ball-dress, and his pulse quickened dizzily.
"If her Gracious Majesty were a king, I think he would give you whatever you were pleased to ask," he breathed. "Ah! Prue—"