y, I beg to apologize to you for words that were never
meant for a brave and gallant gentleman, but for a pirate who I find
does not exist. I pray you to forget them, quite."

I returned his bow, but my eyes traveled past him.

"I will allow you no words with my Lord Carnal," he said. "With your
wife,--that is different." He moved aside with a smile.

She was standing, pale, with downcast eyes, where my lord had left her.
"Jocelyn," I said. She turned toward me, crimsoned deeply, uttered a low
cry, half laughter, half a sob, then covered her face with her hands. I
took them away and spoke her name again, and this time she hid her face
upon my breast.

A moment thus; then--for all eyes were upon her--I lifted her head,
kissed her, and gave her to Lady Wyatt, whom I found at my side. "I
commend my wife to your ladyship's care," I said. "As you are woman,
deal sisterly by her!"

"You may trust me, sir," she made answer, the tears upon her cheeks. "I
did not know,--I did not understand....Dear heart, come away,--come away
with Margaret Wyatt."

Clayborne opened the door of the cabin, and stood aside with a low bow.
The men who had sat to judge me rose; only the King's favorite kept his
seat. With Lady Wyatt's arm about her, the King's ward passed between
the lines of standing gentlemen to the door, there hesitated, turned,
and, facing them with I know not what of pride and shame, wistfulness of
entreaty and noble challenge to belief in the face and form that were of
all women's most beautiful, curtsied to them until her knee touched the
floor. She was gone, and the sunlight with her.

When I turned upon that shameless lord where he sat in his evil beauty,
with his honor dead before him, men came hastily in between. I put
them aside with a laugh. I had but wanted to look at him. I had no
sword,--already he lay beneath my challenge,--and words are weak things.

At length he rose, as arrogant as ever in his port, as evilly superb in
his towering pride, and as amazingly indifferent to the thoughts of men
who lied not. "This case hath wearied me," he said. "I will retire for
a while to rest, and in dreams to live over a past sweetness. Give
you good-day, gentles! Sir Francis Wyatt, you will remember that
this gentleman did resist arrest, and that he lieth under the King's
displeasure!" So saying he clapped his hat upon his head and walked out
of the cabin. The Company's officers drew a long breath, as if a fresher
air h