Then Debora turned to Don Sherwood; her lips trembled a little.
"I wronged thee," she said, softly. "I wronged thee greatly. I ask thy pardon."
"Nay," he said, going to her. "Ask it not, 'twas but a mistake. I blame thee not for it. This," motioning to the other, "this is my kinsman, Dorien North. He is my father's brother's son, and we bear the same name, or rather did so in the past."
The girl looked at the man before her coldly, yet half-curiously.
"I would," went on Sherwood, steadily, "that he might hear the tale Darby told me. To-morrow he sails for the Indies, as I have taken passage for him on an outward-bound ship. He came to me for money to escape last night, after having stabbed one Master Berwick in a brawl at 'The Mermaid.' It may be thou hast already heard of this?"
"Ay!" she answered, whitening, "I have heard."
"I gave him the passage money," continued Sherwood, "for I would not either have him swing on Tyburn or rot in Newgate. Yet I will even now tell the Captain under whom he was to sail that he is an escaping felon—a possible murderer—if he lies to thee in aught—and I shall know if he lies."
The man they both watched threw back his handsome, blond head at this and laughed a short, hard laugh. His dazzling white teeth glittered, and in the depths of his blue eyes was a smouldering fire.
"By St. George!" he broke out, "you have me this time, Don. Hang me! If I'm not betwixt the devil and the deep sea." Then, with a low bow to Debora, raising his hand against his heart in courtly fashion, "I am thy servant, fair lady," he said. "Ask me what thou dost desire. I will answer."
"I would have asked thee—Art thou that Dorien North who deceived and betrayed one Nell Quinten, daughter of Makepeace Quinten, the Puritan, who lives near Kenilworth," said Debora, gravely; "but indeed I need not to ask thee. The child who was in her arms when we found her—hath thy face."