"I may be mistaken," returned Mrs. Bloundel, almost at her wit's end with anxiety. "Don't mind what I say. Judge for yourself. Oh dear! what will become of her?" she mentally ejaculated.
"Lanterns and links!" cried Pillichody. "Do you mean to impeach my veracity, good mistress? I am an old soldier, and as tenacious of my honour as your husband is of his credit."
"This blustering will not serve your turn, fellow," observed the grocer, seizing him by the collar. "I begin to suspect my wife is in the right, and will at all events detain you."
"Detain me! on what ground?" asked Pillichody.
"As an accomplice in my daughter's abduction," replied Bloundel. "Here, Blaize—Stephen, hold him while I call the watch. This is a most mysterious affair, but I will soon get at the bottom of it."
By the grocer's directions, Pillichody, who very quietly entered the house, and surrendered his halberd to Blaize, was taken to the kitchen. Bloundel then set forth, leaving Stephen on guard at the yard door, while his wife remained in the shop, awaiting his return.
On reaching the kitchen with the prisoner, Blaize besought his mother, who, as well as Patience, had accompanied him thither, to fetch a bottle of sack. While she went for the wine, and the porter was stalking to and fro before the door with the halberd on his shoulder, Patience whispered to Pillichody, "I know who you are. You came here last night with the Earl of Rochester in the disguise of a quack doctor."
"Hush!" cried Pillichody, placing his finger on his lips.
"I am not going to betray you," returned Patience, in the same tone. "But you are sure to be found out, and had better beat a retreat before Mr. Bloundel returns."
"I won't lose a moment," replied Pillichody, starting to his feet.