"Sue for mercy, caitiff hound, or I will despatch thee!"
"Spare him, gentle sir!—spare him!" cried Mary, seizing the Cavalier's arm.
"He owes his worthless life to your intercession, sweet Mary," cried Careless, spurning Urso from him. "If he is not sufficiently grateful for the obligation, let me know, and I will sharpen his gratitude. Adieu, till to-morrow!"
And sheathing his sword, he strode away.
Quite crestfallen at his discomfiture, and eager to escape from the jeers of the neighbours who had come forth, Urso picked up his tuck-sword and hurried back to the house with Mary.
What passed between them need not be recounted. It will be sufficient to state the result.
Not till the second evening after the occurrence just described, did Careless return to Angel lane. His duties to the king had detained him in the interval.
After tapping softly at the door of Mary's dwelling, he raised the latch, but the door was fastened, and he was compelled to knock more loudly. Still, no answer to the summons. He listened intently, but not the slightest sound was to be heard within; neither was any light visible through the little lattice window.
While he was making another ineffectual attempt to obtain admittance, a glover, who lived next door, came forth and told him that Dame Rushout and Mary were gone.