"Prithee, good lass," said Judith, instantly, and with much composure, "go thy way back home. I wish for no message."
"He seemed in sore distress," the little maid said, diffidently.
"How, then? Did a gentleman of his tall inches seek help from such a mite as thou?"
"He would fain see you, sweet mistress, and but for a moment," the girl answered, being evidently desirous of getting the burden of the message off her mind. "He bid me say he would be in the lane going to Bidford, or thereabout, for the next hour or two, and would crave a word with you—out of charity, the gentleman said, or something of the like—and that it might be the last chance of seeing you ere he goes, and that I was to give his message to you very secretly."
Well, she scarcely knew what to do. At their last interview he had pleaded for another opportunity of saying farewell to her, and she had not definitely refused; but, on the other hand, she would much rather have seen nothing further of him in these present circumstances. His half-reckless references to Prince Ferdinand undergoing any kind of hardship for the sake of winning the fair Miranda were of a dangerous cast. She did not wish to meet him on that ground at all, even to have her suspicions removed. But if he were really in distress? And this his last day in the neighborhood? It seemed a small matter to grant.
"What say you, Cousin Willie?" said she, good-naturedly. "Shall we go and see what the gentleman would have of us? I cannot, unless with thee as my shield and champion."
"If you wish it, Cousin Judith," said he: what would he not do that she wished?
"And Cicely—shall we all go?"
"Nay, so please you, Mistress Judith," the girl said; "I have to go back for my errands. I have been running everywhere to seek you."
"Then, Willie, come along," said she, lightly. "We must get across the fields to the Evesham road."