w came you to go about picking a quarrel
with Sir Francis?"

"'Twas not of my seeking," I returned, and then I could have cursed my
foolish tongue.

"Is that generous, Captain Ireton? We hear something of the talk of the
town, and that says--"

"That says I struck him without sufficient cause. I am content to let it
stand so."

"Nay, but you should not be content. Is there not strife enough in this
unhappy land without these causeless bickerings?"

Here was my lady turned preacher all in a breath and I with no words to
answer her. But I could not let it go thus.

"I knew Sir Francis Falconnet in England," said I, hoping by this to
turn her safe aside.

"Ah; then there was a cause. Tell it me."

"Nay, that I may not."

Though she was hurting me sorely in the wound-dressing, and knew it, she
laughed.

"'Tis most ungallant to deny a lady, sir. But I shall know without the
telling; 'twas about a woman. Tell me, Captain Ireton, is she fair?"

Seeing that her mood had changed again, I tried to give her quip for
jest; but what with the pain of the sword-thrust and the sweet agony of
her touches I could only set my teeth against a groan. She went on
drawing the bandagings, little heedful how she racked me, I thought; and
yet when all was done she stood beside me all of a tremble, as any
tender-hearted woman might.

"There," she said; "'tis over for a time, and I make no doubt you are
glad enough. Now you have nothing to do save to lie quiet till it
heals."

"And how long will that be, think you?"

"We shall see; a long time, I hope. You shall be punished properly for
your hot temper, I promise you, Captain Ireton."

With that she left me and went to stand in the window-bay; and from
lying mouse-still and watching her over-steadily I fell asleep again.
When I awoke the day was in its gloaming and she was gone.

After this I saw her no more for six full circlings of the clock-hands,
and grew fair famished for a sight of her sweet face. But to atone, she,
or some messenger of Richard Jennifer's, brought me my faithful Darius,
and he it was who fetched me my food and drink and dressed my wound.
From him I gleaned that the master of Appleby Hundred had returned from
Queensborough, and that there were officers in red coats continually
going back and forth, always with a hearty welcome from Gilbert Stair.

Now, though the master of my stolen heritage had little cause to love
me, I thought he had still less to fe