“I require you and your men to stay here,” said he, “to guard this place. Tom Price tells me you are a trusty fellow, that understands his business and asks no questions, which is well. In this house are two fair maidens, who, when we leave, will have no other protector but you and your men. Now then, I bid you, guard them close. Let no one in to them, and see they go not out. They are my captives, and but for this cursed war I should not be leaving the charge of them thus to a stranger. Hold no talk with them, and, if they be riotous, lock them fast in their chambers. So soon as I have shown myself to the Deputy Lord I shall return; or I may send you word to bring the maids to me. Remember, hands-off; and if you serve me well in this, I may, perchance—for they are both fair—”
“Enough!” exclaimed I through my teeth, and digging my fingers into the palms of my hands till the blood came.
“I understand you, Captain. Depend on me.”
“Thanks, good fellow,” said he, not heeding my troubled voice. “We shall meet again soon. And, by the way, see specially that a certain hare-brained poetic fool and a swaggering bully, his companion, come not near the place. If you catch them, you will do well to hang them on the gate. Heaven knows they have marred sport enough! And now, farewell. Your hand on this.”
I gave him such a grip that he well-nigh danced with pain, and let him go.
I was in a state of wild tumult. Within those very walls, then, unconscious of all that came and went, lay the two sweet maids, for whose sake I have travelled thus far from London. And this fool of a villain was even now leaving me to guard them, while he, deferring his crime for a more convenient season, went to show himself to my Lord Deputy! ’Twas more like a dream of good fortune than real fact; and I dreaded every moment to find myself awake with all my hopes vanished.
But no. The Captain and his men went to horse, and presently the order was given to march out.
“Farewell,” cried he to me as he rode forth; “be trusty and vigilant. Draw up the gate after we be gone, for there be rogues in plenty about. We shall meet again. Meanwhile, when you see my angel, tell her I left in tears, breathing her name. Ha! ha!”
And he spurred off gaily.
I stood stock-still, I know not how long, till the sound of the hoofs had clattered away into silence, and the voices were lost in the gentle moaning of the night-wind among the trees. Then I turned and glanced up at the house. All was dark; not a light flickered, nor was there aught to show behind which of these windows slumbered my sweet Jeannette or her fair mistress.