“Nay,” she laughed, “once is enough surely, at least for me.”
Then I wished the ground might swallow me, for I deemed she thought me a fool.
“She would come,” put in the old servant in an accent which, though I had never heard it before, I took to be Scotch or Irish; “I told her myself what to expect among a crowd of rude, rascally City sparks, that don’t know a lady when they see her, and when they do, don’t know how to behave themselves. It serves her right, say I, and it’s myself will see she frolics no more, I warrant you—a low, unmannerly pack of curs, with a plague on all of you.”
“Never heed my old nurse,” said the young lady, sweetly; “she and I were parted in the crowd, and but for you, brave lad, I might have rued my folly in coming hither more than I do. Thanks once more, and farewell. Come, Judy—thank good Master Dexter for taking better care of me than ever you did, and then come away.”
I stood like a mule gaping after them as they went, unable to stir or say a word till they were lost to view. Then as I turned came a shout at my ears: “There he stands!—there stands the villain! Seize him and hold him fast. He shall learn what it is to assault a captain of the Queen’s guard.”
Ho! ho! There were a round dozen of them, and one on horseback. But I knew of two dozen better than they within call.
So I shouted, “Clubs, clubs, to the rescue!” and began to lay about me.