"Come with me into the house, and you shall hear," replied Mistress Nutter.
Nowell was about to refuse peremptorily, when his cloak was again plucked by Potts, who whispered him to go.
"This is not a snare laid to entrap me, madam?" he said, regarding the lady suspiciously.
"I will answer for her good faith," interposed Nicholas.
Nowell still hesitated, but the counsel of his legal adviser was enforced by a heavy shower of rain, which just then began to descend upon them.
"You can take shelter beneath my roof," said Mistress Nutter; "and before the shower is over we can settle the matter."
"And my wounds can be dressed at the same time," said Potts, with a groan, "for they pain me sorely."
"Blackadder has a sovereign balsam, which, with a patch or two of diachylon, will make all right," replied Nicholas, unable to repress a laugh. "Here, lift him up between you," he added to the grooms, "and convey him into the house."
The orders were obeyed, and Mistress Nutter led the way through the now wide-opened gates; her slow and majestic march by no means accelerated by the drenching shower. What Roger Nowell's sensations were at following her in such a way, after his previous threats and boastings, may be easily conceived.