“Go round the house, Jasper,” says I. “Say naught to anybody, but go round and see that all’s fast. Bolt, bar, and chain—we may have to stand a siege this night. And now let’s within—where is Mistress Alison?” But ere he could answer me the door into the great kitchen opened, and Mistress Alison herself stood before us. She carried a lamp in one hand and held it up as she stopped on the threshold to look at us. Faith, I shall never forget her as she was at that moment, looking as proud and impatient as only a woman of her sort can!
“Who——?” she says, staring from Jasper to us, with a haughty interrogation in her eyes and the curve of her mouth. “Ah!” she says, suddenly recognising me. “Mr Richard Coope,” she says, and stares straight into my eyes with a contempt that brought the blood to my face.
“Mistress,” says I, hurriedly, “this is no time for talk nor for quarrels. By chance or providence I have learned that Sir Nicholas and yourself are in great peril, and I have come here to warn you of it, and have brought John and Humphrey to protect you.”
“Indeed,” says she. But she stood there in the doorway making no offer to permit us into the kitchen.
“Let me see my uncle,” says I. “He must be warned of his peril at once.”
“Your uncle is in his bed, sir,” she answers, still keeping her place. “He is ill, and is not to be disturbed by anyone.”
“Then let me see you within, mistress, that I may tell you my news,” says I.
“You can tell it to me here, sir,” she says.
“Then, by God, I won’t!” I raps out, losing my temper under her provocation. “Look you, cousin, I am perilling myself to serve you, and you treat me like a dog! Is it mannerly to keep me and my friends standing here as if we were beggars?”
I saw the colour flash into her cheeks at that, and she stepped back into the kitchen with a motion to us to follow. As we came into the glare of the lights I noticed, though it was no time for thinking of such matters, that her beauty was of the rarest sort and had deepened since I had last set eyes on it. She stood by the fire, one hand resting on the back of a chair, the other still holding the lamp—faith! ’twas the prettiest sight to see her thus with her fine gown and the dainty slippers peeping from beneath it, and her face turned to me with the scorn still lingering in the delicate lines of her mouth.