out the shoulders, clean-cut
in feature, with a long, straight nose, black hair, and merry black
eyes. Also, as such a gallant should do, he appeared to be making love
with much vigour and directness, for his face was upturned pleading with
the girl, who leaned back in her chair answering him nothing. At this
moment, indeed, his copious flow of words came to an end, perhaps from
exhaustion, perhaps for other reasons, and was succeeded by a more
effective method of attack. Suddenly sinking from the stool to his
knees, he took the unresisting hand of Cicely and kissed it several
times; then, emboldened by his success, threw his long arms about her,
and before Sir John, choked with indignation, could find words to stop
him, drew her towards him and treated her red lips as he had treated her
fingers. This rude proceeding seemed to break the spell that bound her,
for she pushed back the chair and, escaping from his grasp, rose, saying
in a broken voice----

"Oh! Christopher, dear Christopher, this is most wrong."

"May be," he answered. "So long as you love me I care not what it is."

"That you have known these two years, Christopher. I love you well,
but, alas! my father will have none of you. Get you hence now, ere
he returns, or we both shall pay for it, and I, perhaps, be sent to a
nunnery where no man may come."

"Nay, sweet, I am here to ask his consent to my suit----"

Then at last Sir John broke out.

"To ask my consent to your suit, you dishonest knave!" he roared from
the darkness; whereat Cicely sank back into her chair looking as though
she would faint, and the strong Christopher staggered like a man pierced
by an arrow. "First to take my girl and hug her before my very eyes, and
then, when the mischief is done, to ask my consent to your suit!" and he
rushed at them like a charging bull.

Cicely rose to fly, then, seeing no escape, took refuge in her lover's
arms. Her infuriated father seized the first part of her that came to
his hand, which chanced to be one of her long brown plaits of hair, and
tugged at it till she cried out with pain, purposing to tear her away,
at which sight and sound Christopher lost his temper also.

"Leave go of the maid, sir," he said in a low, fierce voice, "or, by
God! I'll make you."

"Leave go of the maid?" gasped Sir John. "Why, who holds her tightest,
you or I? Do you leave go of her."

"Yes, yes, Christopher," she whispered, "ere I am pulled in two."

Then he obeyed