'For my sake,' I said, tremulously.
But he shook off the temptation and began—
'Whilst I have power to wield a sword——'
He was interrupted. An iron hand was laid on his shoulder, and a voice of thunder demanded—
'Are you for Queen Mary? Speak. Answer, yea or nay?'
It was Sir Claudius Crossley's ugly face that leered upon us as we looked round, and it was his hand that gripped my beloved one's shoulder, whilst behind him stood a little band of wild, ruffianly men.
Silently along the riverpath they had come from the barge, creeping up behind us, whilst we were absorbed in the momentous questions occupying our attention; and now, shielding himself behind the name of Mary, Sir Claudius was ready for any deed of violence.
'I do not answer ruffians!' cried Sir Hubert, grasping his sword.
The next moment there was a scuffle; the men, some half dozen in number, threw themselves upon Sir Hubert and caught hold of me, and whether from fear, or from some blow that was dealt by a coward, not above fighting women, I know not, but I immediately lost consciousness and knew no more.