possible," the knight asked indignantly, "that you believed
the word of a fellow like this to the detriment to your kinsman? Why, in
any court of law the word of such a one as opposed to that of a knight
and gentleman of honour would not be taken for a moment."

"You are mistaken, sir," Dame Vernon said haughtily. "You may remember,
in the first place, that the lad who overheard this conversation risked
his life to save me and my daughter from the consequences of the attack
which he heard planned; in the second place, he was no ragged lad,
but the apprentice of a well-known citizen; thirdly, and this is of
importance, since he has recognized you since your return, and is ready
should I give him the word, to denounce you. He is no mere apprentice
boy, but is of gentle blood, seeing that he is the son of Sir Roland
Somers, the former possessor of the lands which I hold, and that he is
in high favour with the good knight Sir Walter Manny, whose esquire he
now is, and under whom he distinguished himself in the wars in France,
and is, as Sir Walter assured me, certain to win his spurs ere long.
Thus you see his bare word would be of equal value to your own, beside
the fact that his evidence does not rest upon mere assertion; but that
the man in the hut promised to do what you actually performed, namely,
to delay me at Richmond, and to wrap me in a white cloak in order that I
might be recognized by the river pirates."

Sir James was silent. In truth, as he saw, the evidence was
overwhelmingly strong against him. After a while he stammered out, "I
cannot deny that I was the man in question; but I swear to you that
this boy was mistaken, and that the scoundrel acted altogether beyond my
instructions, which were simply that he should board the boat and carry
you and your daughter away to a safe place."

"And with what object, sir," Dame Vernon said contemptuously, "was I to
be thus taken away?"

"I do not seek to excuse myself," the knight replied calmly, having now
recovered his self-possession, "for I own I acted wrongly and basely;
but in truth I loved you, and would fain have made you my wife. I knew
that you regarded me with only the calm affection of a kinswoman; but
I thought that were you in my power you would consent to purchase your
freedom with your hand. I know now that I erred greatly. I acknowledge
my fault, and that my conduct was base and unknightly, and my only
excuse is the great love I bore you.

"And wh