“Your prisoners!” cried the lady, with cutting contempt; “and who are you, and by whose authority do you dare to lay hands on me or any beneath my roof!”
“Who am I? That you shall soon know to your cost,” said Jeffreys, with a horrible oath. “George Jeffreys has a peculiar way of making himself known, my mistress. Now deliver up these two arch rebels—the canting, whining priest, and the traitor Nelthorpe, into our hands, and mayhap I’ll not press my further acquaintance upon your ladyship, except to taste the quality of your wine, for I’ll warrant you, my men, (turning to his followers) these old cellars are not dry.”
“I know no such persons as those you seek,” replied the Lady Alice, firmly; “and what reason have you to suppose they are within my house?”
“We know it, and that is enough,” replied Jeffreys. “They are known to have lain hid within your neighborhood; and we know they have been secreted by you; and now, by G—d, madam, unless you lead us to their kennel, your body shall writhe in flames, or be hacked in pieces by my soldiers!”
“Infamous, cowardly wretch,” replied Alice Lisle, undaunted, “think you your threats would induce me to betray, more especially into your blood-thirsty hands, any unhappy individual who had sought my protection! Know Alice Lisle better.”
“Ho-ho, are we so brave! here, my men, take this boasting mistress, and give her a dance upon hot coals!” cried the ferocious Jeffreys.
At that instant little Edwin, still in his night-dress, opened the door of his little bed-room, and ran terrified toward the Lady Alice; but he was not permitted to reach her; a soldier rudely seized the poor boy by the shoulder, and notwithstanding his shrieks, held him with such a grip as left the print of his fingers upon the tender flesh.
“Ruffian, unhand the child!” exclaimed the lady, attempting to rise, but held back by the iron hand of Jeffreys.
“Ha! a pretty hostage, truly!” he said. “Here, Ratcliffe, draw your dagger across his pretty white throat, unless this stubborn woman yields up our prey—do you hear that?” turning to the Lady Alice.
“O save me—save me! don’t let them kill me!” screeched the poor little fellow, striving to break away; then turning his beautiful eyes upon the hard, stern features of the man who held him, he clung piteously around his knees, repeating his cry for mercy, his face uplifted, and his soft, golden curls falling over his white shoulders, from which the loose night-dress had slipped away.