Now all this day I had been keeping the house, at my father's strict
command, he being most solicitous that for their safety none of his
household should meet with the gang of cutthroats he knew to be then
in the village. Being thus cut off from news, we had no knowledge of
what was toward, conjecturing, however, some wickedness from the
sound of those three musket-shots that I have mentioned.
About nine o'clock of the evening, then, I went to my chamber, sad,
indeed, and anxious for the fate of the Drayton folk, and with many a
shudder of horror as the things I had heard tell of that regiment,
called at one time of Tangier, at another, Queen Catharine's, came
unwelcome to my mind. And I remember that, as I put off my clothes,
I marvelled how a woman high and gently born as that lady of Portugal
could take pleasure to have such men bear her name. But, with all my
perturbation, my mood was mild and peaceful to what it had been had I
known at whom those same shots had been fired. Yet was there on my
spirit a sense of unrest, and (as it seems to me now, perhaps in the
light of after knowledge) of foreboded evil that would in no manner
let me sleep. So it was that, about half an hour after I had bidden
good-night to my father and Mr. Telgrove, I extinguished my one
candle, and, it being a warm but clouded night, sat at the open
window in my night-robe, trying idly to bring my eyes to pierce the
darkness, and as idly considering when I was like again to see Ned.
Here I sat, but for how long a period of time I know not. Yet I do
remember that I heard all those sounds that indicate the closing in
of night and sleep over a great house. And last came the drawing of
bolts and setting of bars below, and the slow and halting step of my
father's ascent of the stairs, and, with the closing of his chamber
door, a stillness as of the grave was over all things. I thought it
was such a stillness as I had never known; and then there grew upon
my spirit (or, at least, it now seems to me that it was so) a
foreknowledge that something, I knew not what, but
something--something--something was coming out from this silence to
break it. And with a slowly growing horror I did then fall to
speculating upon the nature of this so certain interruption; would it
be some ghastly vision of another world, or a cry of wrath, or some
more horrible scream of terror? As one grown suddenly cold I arose
from my seat by the window, with a shudder at the creatures of my
imagination, gently drew to the casement, and got into my bed, as I
should have done an hour, perhaps, before. But I found there no
refuge from the silence that should be broke, but was not. And this
sense of loneliness brought me in mind of the forgotten duty of
prayer, so that I was quickly again out of my bed and on my knees by
its side, hoping, childlike, great solace to my oppression of spirit.
And then it came,--not the solace, but the breaking of the silence.
And, though it was not such as I had looked for, being but the slight
click of a pebble upon the glass of my window, yet did it send, as
they say, my heart into my throat, and my whole body was a-tremble,
as it had been a harpstring overstrained. It is a thing for which I
can never to the day of my death sufficiently thank the goodness of
God, that my terror took from me the voice in which I would have
cried aloud upon the house. And so I gasped for breath, and clutched
the clothes of the bed in a fear quite out of reason; and had I been
upon my feet instead of my knees, 't is sure I could not have kept
them. And then I heard the jingle of a bridle and the thud of an
impatient hoof falling soft upon the sod, so that even in my passion
of fear I knew it was under my window, or I had not heard it, for the
grass was soft with the rain that fell at sunset. Upon that strange
thoughts of our bugbear Kirke and of those devils that he ruled crept
in my mind; but surely, I thought, my father's good affections to the
throne should protect us; and, some movement of curiosity stirring in
my breast to combat its army of terrors, I made shift to creep with
knees and hands to the window, whence, with caution raising myself
and peering through the lower panes, I espied dimly the shape of a
man standing beside his horse. Thereupon, perchance having seen the
whiteness of face, hand, or sleeve at the window, though the light
was almost none, the man below uttered that whimsical little whistle
of three notes that was a signal and warning of childhood to me, and
I knew it was Ned. And my joy was so great that I forgot the hour,
the place, the strangeness in him to come to my chamber window, and
the unseemliness of my attire. Indeed I thought but of him as I
gently flung back the casement, and cried, but softly: "Ned, dear
Ned, is it indeed thou?"
Whereupon he replied, in a voice, as I thought, strangely altered
from that I had known (but indeed it was but the day's anxiety and
alarms that had so changed its sound): "I indeed it is, dear Mistress
Phil. But, I pray you, speak low and secretly, for I do think they
will be even now upon me."
"And who are 'they'?" I asked, lightly enough, having as yet no fear
that any would harm such as he.
"Kirke's mercenaries, that, because they bear upon their flag the
Lamb that doth signify our blessed Redeemer, and because they do
never use to show mercy," he said bitterly, "they do call Lambs. 'T
is not likely they will show me the mercy of sword-thrust or
musket-ball if there be a rope handy where we meet. And hanging is a
death I have little love to, Phil."
"But, Ned, O Ned!" I cried, leaning from the window the better to
speak low, "what hast done, dear, to be out with these men? Surely
you did not fight with the Duke."
"Nay, mistress," says he, "but I have this day struck down, and maybe
worse, one that did fight against that same poor foolish man. He was
their officer, and I doubt he is not yet risen, for I struck him as I
never struck man before. All this day have I lain hid, and should
now be on my way to Bridport if my life be worth the saving. But I
thought, even now as I was starting on my way, sink or swim, live or
swing, I would see Phil once again--I would say, Mistress Philippa.
So I rode hither five miles from Crewkerne woods to bid you good-by.
And now I am sorry that I did so, for, as I leapt the hedge down
there from the lane into the hollow, I saw one on a horse that made
for the village, and I doubt he was some picket set to watch after
me. 'T is certain they have gotten horses enough by this, and I do
fear my rashness may bring them hot foot about this house."
He now mounted his horse, pushed him close to the wall, and went on
speaking; "I wish I could come at you," he said. "Would you give a
kiss to take over the sea with me, Mistress Phil, an I could reach
your lips? I have not felt their touch of velvet since I was a lad."
Now we were indeed very foolish there, with danger so instant upon
us, to pause for such a matter. But I, remembering how I had wept
because he had not taken, when last we met, what I was ashamed to
offer unasked, and being filled with joy at his words, did answer,
bold as brass: "That indeed would I, dear Ned, if you were three feet
taller than your six." And with that he must again urge his nag
close in to the wall, steady him with voice and rein, and then climb
to his feet upon the cantel of his saddle; and there, resting one
hand upon the ledge of the window, he did take what he had asked and
I was not minded to refuse. And whether there were more kisses than
one, or whether one did last much longer than the wonted time of
such, concerns but two persons in the world.
But, on a sudden, passing athwart my new joy, a newer fear entered my
heart; for I heard the sound of many hoofs coming breakneck up the
avenue to the house. For the passing of one brief heart-beat that
yet seemed the time of an age I felt cold and sick of an awful dread,
when there sprang a picture on my brain of import so appalling, that
I was flung by recoil from that depth of despair into as excellent a
degree of courage. For as in a flash of light I saw a gallows, and
thought of a rope clinging yet closer where my arms now clung. And
as the courage thus sprang to life in me, and I whispered, "They
shall not have thee, Ned," the beat of hoofs drew near with that
pulse in the stroke of them that tells of the sharpness of the
rider's spur and the wrath in his heart. And that which next
followed was a plain effect of Ned's rashness, and of the folly of us
both at such a conjuncture to play with the moments that should have
been used to his escape. For the horse, on which he precariously
stood to reach me, hearing the quick and stirring approach of his
kind, did incontinently fling his heels in the air, and, with a
shrill nickering, started away across the park at a good round pace,
leaving his master hanging by his hands, and partly to a great stem
of the ivy that on this side covers the most part of the stonework of
the house. After a little struggle he did contrive some sort of
footing among the lower branching knots of the ivy, and with a
whispered adieu would have made his descent, very hazardous for a man
of weight, had I not clutched him hard. For I heard the voices of
some that were coming round the house, drawn, doubtless, by the
neighing of the faithless nag.
"Come in, Ned, an you love me," I said. "If they see thee here all
is done." Now I can give no good account of how it was achieved,
remembering but confusedly that I did get my hands beneath his arms,
and thereby pulled at him with a strength raised, I do think, for
some few moments of time, by the mercy of God and my great fear, much
above what by nature was in me; and he, as he was able, helping me, I
did, in spite of the greatness of his shoulders, and the narrowness
of the casement, with great silence and speed haul his long person
head foremost into my chamber; and that was done but just as three of
his pursuers, mounted on the horses they had pressed for the service,
did gallop round the corner upon the grass. And I thanked God that I
was burning no light within, else had they spied the soles of his
great riding-boots, which yet rested upon the sill, while his head
was on the floor, and I crouched beside him to hide the whiteness of
my bedgown. To this day there is the mark of his spur upon the sill
of that casement--a sort of dotted line, made as he did twist himself
over on the floor the better to drag the long legs of him to the same
level. Of the three that rode by beneath, it was afterwards supposed
that they did further scatter the deer that Ned's horse had roused
from sleep, each pursuing in the darkness a quarry of his own, which
he took for the nag that was now well on his riderless way to Royston.
Now my first motion was to laugh loud and long, which with some
wisdom I did check. Then I would have wept, but that desire too was
speedily overcome, as for the first time since the pebble struck my
window I remembered how I was clad, and again thanked God there was
not even a rushlight in the chamber to show me so unmaidenly. But we
were not quit of Kirke's men for the three that were so vainly and
unseasonably chasing our deer; for, as I turned to a closet to take
down a long cloak to throw over me, there arose a clamor of knocking
and shouting at the great door below. For all that has been told
since first we heard their horses was the happening of seconds fewer
than the minutes spent in reading it.
"Where are you, mistress?" said Ned, now risen to his feet, and so
standing between me and the window that I could make out the
blackness of his shape against the thinner darkness without.
"You must not speak, dear Ned," I answered, laying my hand on his arm
to show him where I stood.
"I cannot see you even yet," said he, as he felt my hand. "But now
you were all white."
With which I was speedily all red with shame, and whispered: "Hush,
Ned, hush! Even now you are in great peril."
"'T is no matter for that," he said. "The peril is for you,
mistress. I did wrong to enter here, and must go, one way or the
other."
And with that he looked warily from the window, but speedily drew
back, having seen in that brief moment, by a faint gleaming of the
moon through a thinness of the clouds, a sentry that moved to and fro
beneath, musket on shoulder. And when he had told me in the lowest
whisper what he had seen, he said: "So it must needs be by the door."
And as he spoke we heard the clatter of bar and chain below, telling
that the enemy was admitted among us. So he would have leapt from
the window to take his chance with the sentry, rather than he should
be so found closeted with me. But I would not, and ran between him
and the window, saying low and quick that I would call aloud if he
persisted. And since he knew me and the manner of voice I used to
threat the thing I would surely do (for my crying out in such case
had made things no worse for him, but only full of shame for me that
called), he yielded, asking me, What, then, should we do? Which
before I could answer, I heard them striking upon a door in the same
gallery where stood the room we were in, and the slumberous
expostulation of Mr. Telgrove, who there inhabited. There was but
one room between, and I felt our turn was near and that the
bitterness of death must soon take hold on me unless I could think of
a thing. And truly I think that never before, and but once since,
did my mind think so many thoughts in so short a space and to so much
purpose.
Press, closet, and chimney--nay, even the space beneath the bed--were
swiftly tried in my mind, and discarded as harborage too little
secure to shelter what in all the world I did best love. But at last
the thought came, and with it I was no longer a maid shaking at
approach of danger, but a general with a device of strategy that
should repel the invader.
"Ned," I said, low and sharp, "will you do what I bid?"
"Ay, sweetheart--mistress, I would say," he replied, and in all my
passion of fear and purpose of action I marvelled, as I had done
since he came under my window, why he would ever style me _mistress_.
Now, while we spoke beneath our breath, I had tied my handkerchief
over his head, and knotted it under his chin. Then I pushed him to
the side of the bed that was farther from the door, guiding him with
my hands, and bidding him lie down while I should pull the covers
over him. But, "Nay, that will I not," he said, with a perilous
raising of the voice. "Had rather swing than save my neck by these
means." And I, in despair, did clap my hand over his mouth, and said
with great fury of passion I scarce knew what, and beat him with my
fists, till he was sorry to see me so moved, and suffered me, of his
old gentle kindness, to force him down, and, trembling, to drag
blanket and quilt over him, which in the dark did so fall foul of
sword-hilt and spur, that I had laughed had I not been heart-sick
with the fear of his life. When he was covered I sat me upon his
chest, and, as best I might in the dark, twisted his long curls,
which, in the fashion of his father's youth, he would still wear in
place of peruke (and I think there is not a beau in London that has a
wig from Paris so fair as what grew on his dear head), into some sort
of womanish knot to thrust up beneath the handkerchief that must
serve for night-cap. The sitting on him was to keep him there till
they began to knock at the door, when I knew the desire to shield my
fame would keep him quiet to the end.
Heavy steps now drawing near, I spoke my last word to him: "When they
come lie thus, with thy face from the door, and, prithee, Ned,
breathe hard and heavily, as you were Betty after a great supper."
"Nay," said he, "I will not stay to play the fool like a mummer in a
play-house."
"If you but so much as stir a finger," said I, "you will put me to
open shame before the servants of the house and those wicked
soldiers. I think you will not so use your old playmate, Ned."
And then, to set my heart beating yet more horribly, so that it
seemed I should never be able to speak when the need came, the
searchers reached our door and knocked upon it, yet, from something
more of gentleness that was in this knocking than was used upon the
door of my tutor, I gathered a little hope. At once I threw off my
cloak and held my breath in eagerness of hearing all that passed
without.
"I say my daughter lies in that chamber," said my father's voice,
growing more clear as he limped painfully up the gallery after his
unwelcome visitors. "She is sleeping, and it will serve no purpose
to arouse her."
"That's my business," said a harsh voice in surly reply. "I will
rouse whom I please, since I am master here."
Sir Michael's voice rose somewhat higher, while his utterance became
slower and more severe, as he answered this fellow.
"You mistake," said he, "for none is master here save I alone. And I
will tell you, Master Sergeant, that, though I have admitted you to
my house in the hope to do His Majesty the King a service, I do not
purpose to endure in this house any show of ill manners such as your
regiment is commonly noised to show toward helpless yokels and
misguided rebels."
The sergeant's voice was still surly, but had in it a degree more of
respect, as he replied that Sir Michael talked a deal of doing His
Majesty a service, but when they came hot on the track of a rebel who
had slain one that held His Majesty's commission, and was not yet
well cold, he fell at once to putting obstacles in the way; that he
was informed by his scouts that the man was seen not half an hour
back making for this house; that he did but wish to make thorough
search for the young murderer, with all fit observance of respect for
His Majesty's loyal subjects, and search every room in that house he
would before he left it. And inside the chamber, when he heard that
the man was indeed dead, poor Ned shuddered beneath the bedclothes,
and I, sitting on the other side, did lay my hand upon him for
comfort. At that time, when I knew nothing but the man was dead, I
thought no ill of my friend for the killing. If Ned Royston should
slay a man, why, to me, the man was better dead. Later, hearing the
whole tale, I was like to have been jealous of little Prudence Emmet,
for whom the man was killed. Yet I wondered not that he shuddered,
for I had heard my father say that it does take an old soldier long
years to forget the first shedding of blood.
I heard one tearless and hard kind of sob from the dear lad, while my
heart was sore that I could not speak in consolation, and then gave
ear to my father's answer to the sergeant, which was very calmly
delivered: "That we shall see, Master Sergeant. I have held no mean
rank in the armies of his late Majesty, King Charles I., from wounds
received in whose cause I shall not be recovered this side the grave,
from which you are to understand what manner of bearing I am wont to
receive from inferiors in rank. Moreover, I am greatly at fault if I
have not still some credit at Whitehall--enough, at least, Master
Sergeant, to make me a safer friend than enemy. I shall thank you
for a sight of your search-warrant."
To which the sergeant: "Indeed, Sir Michael, I have none. In these
ill times, with so much treason abroad, we do not think much of a
warrant. But I am under a great necessity in what I do. Our colonel
is no man to take soft words as atonement for the death of an officer
after his own heart. I must report in the town of Taunton at noon
to-morrow, and I dare not take thither this story of murder without
the murderer. You talk well of warrants, sir, but there is none of
us but fears Colonel Kirke worse than the law."
And on the other side of the door I did most heartily agree with this
sergeant of Queen Catharine's Regiment of Foot. But my father
continued: "I perceive, sergeant, that you are a man of some parts
and education. Let us meet each other thus--I to summon my daughter,
and, after a space, you and I alone of all these to enter the
chamber." At which words my heart did sink to the place where the
shoes had been but for my resolve, at any cost to nicer feeling, of
showing unprepared.
And, the sergeant heartily consenting, Sir Michael himself rapped
upon the door, and I still keeping silence (knowing I must open, yet
not thinking it to be wise too soon to hear him, when I had been deaf
to the sergeant), he next tried the latch, and, finding the door
fast, knocked louder, and very gently called my name. Whereat I
groaned, sighed, and cried, as one waking from sleep, "What is to do?
Who is it, and what is wanted?"
And my father answered, "It is I, your father. Cloak yourself,
Philippa, and open to me."
Whereupon I made my first mistake; for, to the end they might think I
had heard nothing but my father's summons, I left my cloak lying upon
the bed, and ran in my white gown, and barefoot, to the door, and
suddenly flung it wide, when the glare of the lights that several did
carry gave me the appearance of blinking with sleep the most
naturally in the world. Then, putting a hand before my eyes to keep
off the suddenness of the light, I said, with a little sharpness:
"Well, sir, why am I roused? Does the house burn, or are Kirke and
his Lambs at the door?"
And my father replied, with the first note of trepidation in his
voice that I had ever heard, "Hush, child! All is well. There is no
fire."
But I, resolved to show no dread, and now well launched in my comedy
of deceit (for which, indeed, I was little fit, being reared in the
utmost strictness of truth-telling), made answer I had rather the
fire than Kirke, who would be the harder to sate. Then, taking my
hand from my t eyes, and feigning now first to perceive the soldiers
and other company, cried out as one mightily abashed to be so looked
upon, and swiftly part-closed the door, and, in a voice whose shaking
was easy to compass, asked who were all these with him. And he told
me that I need not fear; that they were but some of the King's
soldiers in search of a murderer, and that none should enter my
chamber but himself and the sergeant of the party. So I left the
door, seeing that they must enter, and ran to the bed and lifted my
cloak, flung it over my shoulders, and turned again to face them;
when I perceived that the sergeant, on my leaving the door, had
thrust it wide to watch my movements. So I bade him and my father
come in, begging at the same time that they would have a care not to
arouse Betty, who was that night sharing my bed.
"And why," asked Sir Michael, "is Betty here? You do use to lie
alone."
Nor were the words out of his mouth before I saw that he regretted
them, and that he knew, whether from my face, or from the unwonted
presence of Betty in my chamber, or from another cause that I did not
then understand, that all was not well. He sat him down heavily upon
the little settle at the bed's foot, with a countenance full of
perplexity and astonishment. But the mischief was done, and I must
find a reason for the presence in my bed of her who was safely
snoring in her own above our heads. So I told him that I had been
loath to sleep alone this night for the fear I had of the things that
were afoot in Drayton village, and had begged Betty to keep me
company. And with that the sergeant, who had, while we spoke, been
peering about the dark corners of the room, turned and sharply
enquired of me why this Betty that lay there in the bed must not be
aroused. "Because," said I, taking refuge in the unreason of a
woman's anger (for indeed I knew not what to say, and all seemed to
go awry from what I had intended), "because I will not have it done.
Is it become a custom with officers of the King to invade by force,
and at dead of night, the sleeping chambers of ladies?"
"Madam," he answered, somewhat abashed as I thought, "I am only a
poor sergeant that would do his duty to his officer. If you will
answer my questions, I will the sooner be gone."
In this gentle manner of taking it I saw some hope, and answered him
thus: "Poor Betty was my nurse, sergeant, and I love her dearly; and
she hath all day been afflicted with a most violent toothache, and 't
is but a little while since I gave her a great draught of a most
sovereign remedy--an electuary of poppy-seed--by which she is eased
of her pain and now fallen asleep." And in the manner the most
imploring I could compass I did here raise pitiful eyes to his face.
"I do perceive, sir," I continued, "I had no need to be angry, but
oh! I do pray you will not waken the poor woman; for a sudden waking
from a slumber procured by that drug is very harmful. Search all the
place--the closets, presses, and beneath the bed; though, in good
sooth, I do not know how you should think to find here any murderer."
The sergeant smiled with a certain grimness, and asked was it not
strange I should seek comfort for my fears in the company of one that
was sick of a toothache; whereon I replied that Betty sick was better
than many another whole.
"And were you sleeping, madam, when we first called upon you to
open?" says the sergeant.
"'T was my father's voice aroused me," I answered, wondering whither
he would lead me with his questioning.
"And had you then slept long?" asked he.
"Since ten o'clock, I do suppose," I replied.
"Yet your cloak, that you now wear, lay, until we were about
entering, there upon the bed," said he, with a meaning glance of
which the significance was wholly hidden from me.
"Well, what if it did?" said I.
"It lay, madam," he replied, "above the turned-down bedcover."
I now was near at an end of my strategy, but my dear father came at
once to the rescue, saying that the sergeant was a clever fellow, but
what in the devil's name did he argue from that?
"That young Mistress Drayton has lately risen from her bed and
covered herself with that same cloak she now wears, but wore not when
she did now open to you, Sir Michael," said the man, with some
acuteness, indeed, but not before I had my answer ready for him, and
something over and above a mere answer.
"Why, indeed, you speak truth, sergeant," I said; and I had hope so
great in what was next to come that I was enabled to laugh with much
naturalness as I spoke; "you are a witch for certain, sir; for though
I did forget the thing for a moment, having since slept, and being
with sleep yet not a little confused, it is true that I did rise once
before from my bed, when I fetched this cloak from the closet there,
and did look from the window----"
"To what end did you do that, madam," said the sergeant, interrupting
me, "on so dark a night?"
"That I cannot say," I answered, "for I was half in sleep when I
rose. But I think, sergeant, that I can tell you something of the
man you seek. For as I looked forth there came a man from the way of
the deer park, and in a little gleam of the moon that did then shine
out for a moment I saw him, and that he was mounted on a dapple-gray
horse. And as he came he stopped as if he heard a sound that he
feared. And then he turned his nag in such haste, and made off the
way he had come with such speed, that I had no time to mark his face;
but I saw that he did lose his hat in turning, nor stayed to recover
it. And not long after him came from the front of the house three
men, mounted, who followed after him. But as they passed the moon
was again clouded, and I can tell nothing of them nor their horses.
And after this I got to bed again, and I must suppose," I said,
looking doubtfully at the bed, "that I slept again, the night being
so warm, without drawing over me the covers whereon I had laid the
cloak."
"Truly, 't is warm," said the sergeant. "But I ask your pardon,
madam, for thus discussing private matters. Your story is a plain
one, and may help to the fellow's capture." And then he took some
steps towards the door, and I thought the danger was over, and I had
much ado to keep my countenance from showing the sudden lightening of
my heart. But even as he was going some devil of raillery, or
cruelty, prompted him to turn and say that in his company he was
counted an excellent tooth-drawer, and that he would just have a look
at poor Betty's mouth. For a moment I could not speak, but turned to
the bed as if to protect my old nurse, perceiving, as I turned, a
movement as of a hand beneath the quilt; and I knew that Ned was
feeling for his sword-hilt, and waiting to be discovered. At that I
laid my hand upon his shoulder, and, finding again my voice, "Be
still, dear Betty," I cried, "there is no need of rising yet. And I
do pray you, Master Sergeant, that you will go now, when I have so
fully told you everything. Her poor tooth will again be raging if
she be disturbed." And this I said so pleadingly that the man was
quite subdued, saying, with more of kindness than he had yet used:
"Indeed, madam, I spoke but in jest, for which I ask your pardon."
And so he left the room, closing the door behind him, and I turned to
regard my father. But before I could reach him to tell in his ear
the reason of it all, and who it was indeed that there lay in the
bed, he rose from the seat he had not left since his entering, and I
at once knew why he had sat so close. For he lifted from the settle,
crushed out of all shape by his sitting upon it, Ned's hat, which,
not finding to be on the floor, I had thought to be fallen upon the
grass below.
Then did we look hard and long in each other's eyes, and my father
thrust out his thumb towards the bed with a gesture of questioning,
and I answered him with one word, so softly breathed that his eyes
must needs take the office of his ears. Then he raised the hat.
"He must find it below," he said, and, stealing to the window, of
which the casement still stood open, he leaned out, and, seeing the
sentry at the far end of his beat, flung out the hat softly with a
skimming motion, so that it fell upon the grass at some distance from
the house, and almost without sound. And returning from the window
he found Ned standing upright, freed from the kerchief I had bound on
his head, bearing in his countenance the flush of a strong
indignation; for he felt, as he has explained to me, that the shame
of that ignominious concealment would never leave him. But the flush
died speedily away on my father's holding out his hand, in silence,
indeed, but with his old frank and kindly smile. They grasped each
the other's with a great clasp, and then Sir Michael whispered: "We
must get him out of this," and went out at the door.
And as he closed it we knew, by the voices without, that he had
encountered the sergeant in the gallery.