ice, and was but little relieved when the Sergeant,
putting on his most serious air, informed her that her life was in the
utmost danger, and that she must instantly come downstairs, open the
gate, and accompany them to the palace.

"I knew it," quavered the old woman, "I knew it since ever my husband
went away with the soldiers and left me here alone. I shall be murdered
among you, but my blood will be on his hands. Indeed, sirs, he hath
never treated me well, but spent his wages at the wine tavern, giving me
but a beggarly pittance. Nay, how do I know but he had an intent in thus
deserting me? He hath, and I can prove it, cast eyes of desire on Maria
of the pork-shop, only because she is younger and more comely than I,
who had grown old and wrinkled bearing him children and cooking him
_ollas_! Aye, and small thanks have I got for either. As indeed I have
told him hundreds of times. Such a man! A pretty fellow to be head
porter at a Queen's gate! I declare I will inform her Royal Majesty this
very night, if I am to go to the palace, that will I!"

"Come down immediately and let us in, my good woman," said the Sergeant,
soothingly. For it appeared as if this torrent of accusation against the
absent might continue to flow for an indefinite period.

"But how am I to know that you are not the very rogues and thieves of
whom you tell?" persisted the old lady with some show of reason.

"Well," said the Sergeant forbearingly, "as to that you must trust us,
mother. It is the best you can do. But fear nothing, we will treat you
gently as a cat her kitten, and you will come up to the palace with us
to show us in what part of it dwell the Queen and her daughter."

"Nay, not if it be to do harm to my lady and the sweet little maid who
this very day brought a pail of milk to poor old Rebeca the portress,
whose husband hath forsaken her for a pork-shop trull. I would rather
die!"

Rollo was about to speak, but the Sergeant whispered that the old lady
was now in such good case to admit them, that she might be frighted by
his foreign accent.

In a few moments the woman could be heard stiffly and grumblingly
descending the stairs, the door was opened, and Rebeca appeared with the
key in her hand.

"How many are there of your party?" she asked, her poor hand shaking so
that she could scarcely fit the key in the lock, and her voice sunk to a
quavering whisper.

"There are five men of us and two women," said the Sergeant, quick