oint so quickly. But the greedy
way I fingered his money deceived him, and he supposed me won already.

"And how should I know aught of her?" said I.

"Come now," said he, "'tis I am here to ask you questions, not you me.
If you want not the money you need not answer. There be others whose
tongues it can loosen. So hand it back."

Hereupon I feigned to be in a monstrous panic and said--

"Nay, sir Captain, I said not that I did not know of her. But why do
you ask? I desire not any harm to the maiden; for she hath been good to
me."

"Harm?" said he. "What do you take me for? I am commanded to deliver
her a jewel, bequeathed by her step-dame, and if you refuse to answer
me, it is not I but you who do her harm."

"Your pardon," said I, "but there be so many evil-disposed persons in
the world, and the maiden is so very fair."

"Come," said he, getting impatient, "where is she?"

"Alas!" said I, "she is not here. I heard of her indeed not long since
in Kent."

"Yes, and where?" he asked, getting excited.

"'Twas in Canterbury, where she hid from a villain, one Captain
Merriman."

He looked at me hard; but I looked so simple, and fingered the money so
greedily, he suspected naught.

"Where is she now?" he asked again.

"Look you, Captain," said I, getting close with him, "if you truly mean
well by this maiden, I shall tell you where to look for her. Only you
must keep it secret, and, above all things, tell it not to this Captain
Merriman, who is a very devil, and whom I would like to split with my
sword, could I catch him."

"Yes, yes," said he, eagerly, "I know him not--where is she?"

"In faith," whispered I, "if you seek her, you must be quick, for a week
hence she may be flown."

"Where is it?" he asked, impatiently.

"'Tis--but the name slips me. Yet, your patience, Captain, I have a
paper I will fetch."

And I left him and wrote hurriedly on a paper.

"_Pont-Marie, at Calais in France_."

"Look you, Captain," said I, "you are to go to the place named here.
'Tis across seas, in France. I can tell you no better than this paper.
I pray you breathe not to the maiden, if you see her, that 'twas I told
you where to look for her; for she would be vexed, as would others I
know of. And to prove I am honest, here, take thy purse; for I will
never touch it till you tell me you have found her and given her the
jewel. As for thy service, I will think of that betwixt now and the day
I see you a