"He would have killed you if he could, I'll be sworn," she protested. "I saw murder in his eye when he rushed upon us, and surely you would avenge the treachery that brought me to this lonely place with a man I detest, who desired to force or shame me into marrying him?"
"I am almost grateful to him," murmured Robin, with his lips to hers, "that he brought you here and procured me the inestimable happiness of seeing you once more and bidding you farewell."
"Is it indeed happiness for you to bid me farewell?" pouted Prue reproachfully.
"Almost—compared to the unutterable anguish of leaving you, perhaps for ever, without."
Prue drew herself away just far enough to look into his eyes with bewitching tenderness. "Does it grieve you so much to leave me, Robin?" she said softly.
"Can you ask, Heart of my heart?" he replied. "You little know how sorely I am torn in twain by the duty that separates me from you."
"Then why should we separate?" she cajoled, nestling against him.
"Oh! tempt me not, Beloved!" he implored, feeling himself melting like wax under her touch. "Honor and loyalty call me to France—
"Then take me with you!" she cried, in ringing tones.
A hand was laid on Robin's shoulder with no gentle emphasis. "What folly is this?" demanded a harsh voice. "De Cliffe, I have overheard the wiles of this enchantress, and although I believe your loyalty is beyond reproach, I can not allow her to test your powers of resistance too far. Can you really believe that she wishes to accompany you? Bah! 'tis but another coil to bind you more securely and make your escape more difficult. But it shall not avail, I swear on the bones of St. Anthony! Viscountess Brooke, do you wish to have this man's death on your conscience? If so, use your arts on him and you will soon be gratified; for I myself will run my sword through his heart, rather than see him a traitor to his king."