's hands, your
father would make terms and submit himself?"

"Certainly not," the one who had spoken before said. "He has other
children--sons and daughters--and he would not dream of abandoning his
rights, and betraying his country, to obtain the liberty of two of us."

"In that case, then, your imprisonment would in no degree stop this
war, or bring about a renewal of peace between the two countries?"

"Certainly not; and as for us, we would strangle ourselves in prison,
did we think that any thought of us would turn our father from his
noble purpose."

"Then in that case," Oswald said quietly, "it is clear that your
captivity would do nought to bring about peace, or to allay the
troubles that have now begun. Therefore I will take on me to let you
go, though in so doing I may be failing somewhat in my duty. Only
promise me that, in the future, you will use what influence you may
possess with your father, to obtain kind treatment for prisoners who
may fall into his hands."

The expression of haughty defiance, that they had hitherto worn, faded
from the girls' faces.

"We shall never forget your kindness, sir," one said, in a low voice.
"We thank you, with all our hearts; not so much for our own sake, as
for our father's. He has been cruelly ill used. He has much to trouble
him, and although I know that our captivity would not turn him from his
purpose, it could not but greatly grieve and trouble him, and he has
already troubles enough on his shoulders.

"Will you accept one of these jewels, as a token only of our gratitude
for your kindness, shown this night to us?"

"Thanks, lady, but no gift will I take. I am failing in my duty, but at
least it shall not be said that I received aught for doing so."

"Then at least--" the girl began, turning to Roger.

"No, lady," the man-at-arms said. "I am neither knight nor esquire, but
a simple soldier; but I take no presents for saving two maidens from
capture and captivity. I have been a monk all my life, though now a
man-at-arms. Never before have I had an opportunity of doing aught of
kindness for a woman, and I am glad that the chance has fallen in my
way."

"May I ask the name of one who has done us such kindness?" the girl
said, turning to Oswald.

"It were best not, lady. It is a service that might cost me my head,
were it to be bruited about. 'Tis best, then, that even you should not
know it. I doubt not that you would preserve the secret; but you would
pe