"'I will add this too, lady,' said the pedlar."
THE HIDDEN ROOM.
It was scarce seven o'clock, and Aunt Deborah was busy in the dairy, when a clatter of hoofs was heard in the court-yard, and, looking out, she saw half-a-dozen troopers sitting stern and straight on their horses, while their leader handed a note to Joan, which was speedily brought to her. It was from her brother, telling her to give the men board and lodging and to aid them in every way in their search for Sir Denzil. 'There is a rumour,' he wrote, 'that he is hidden about the Court, which is absurd.' (How had he forgotten the secret chamber? This question puzzled Millicent in after years, but it was never answered.)
Aunt Deborah went to give orders for the men's comfort, sending little Marjorie to call Millicent down to help; but the child came back with a grave face and the unlooked-for news that Millicent was so ill she could not rise.
Aunt Deborah was kindness itself when any one was really ill, and she hurried off at once to see what was the matter.
Millicent's flushed face and heavy eyes were enough to rouse her sympathy. 'You have taken a chill, child, dreaming in the garden; the wind was keen though the sun was hot. 'Tis a pity just when these men will want to go through the house; but there is nothing to hide from any one here. You must lie still for a day or two, and Joan shall send you up some soup and cooling drink.'