‘’Tis our duty to help folks in distress,’ said Festus. ‘Man a-lost, where are you?’
‘’Twas across there,’ said one of his friends.
‘No! ’twas here,’ said another.
Meanwhile Uncle Benjy, coming from his hiding-place, had scampered with the quickness of a boy up to the door they had quitted, and slipped in. In a moment the door flew together, and Anne heard him bolting and barring it inside. The revellers, however, did not notice this, and came on towards the spot where the trumpet-major and Anne were standing.
‘Here’s succour at hand, friends,’ said Festus. ‘We are all king’s men; do not fear us.’
‘Thank you,’ said Loveday; ‘so are we.’ He explained in two words that they were not the distressed traveller who had cried out, and turned to go on.
‘’Tis she! my life, ’tis she said Festus, now first recognizing Anne. ‘Fair Anne, I will not part from you till I see you safe at your own dear door.’
‘She’s in my hands,’ said Loveday civilly, though not without firmness, ‘so it is not required, thank you.’
‘Man, had I but my sword—’
‘Come,’ said Loveday, ‘I don’t want to quarrel. Let’s put it to her. Whichever of us she likes best, he shall take her home. Miss Anne, which?’