to outwit her
wrathful father. There was Sir George, whose mental condition, inflamed by
constant drinking, bordered on frenzy because he felt that his child, whom
he had so tenderly loved from the day of her birth, had disgraced herself
with a low-born wretch whom she refused to name. And there, under the same
roof, lived the man who was the root and source of all the trouble. A
pretty kettle of fish!

"The wager, father, will you take it?" eagerly asked Dorothy.

Sir George, who thought that her words were spoken only to anger him,
waved her off with his hands and said:--

"I have reason to believe that I know the wretch for whose sake you have
disgraced yourself. You may be sure that I shall soon know him with
certainty. When I do, I will quickly have him in my power. Then I will
hang him to a tree on Bowling Green, and you shall see the low-born dog
die."

"He is better born than any of our house," retorted Dorothy, who had lost
all sense of caution. "Ay, he is better born than any with whom we claim
kin."

Sir George stood in open-eyed wonder, and Dorothy continued: "You cannot
keep him from me. I shall see him, and I will have him despite you. I tell
you again, I have seen him two score times since you tried to spy upon us
at Bowling Green Gate, and I will see him whenever I choose, and I will
wed him when I am ready to do so. You cannot prevent it. You can only be
forsworn, oath upon oath; and if I were you, I would stop swearing."

Sir George, as was usual with him in those sad times, was inflamed with
drink, and Dorothy's conduct, I must admit, was maddening. In the midst of
her taunting Thomas stepped into the room bearing an armful of fagots. Sir
George turned to him and said:--

"Go and tell Welch to bring a set of manacles."

"For Mistress Dorothy?" Thomas asked, surprised into the exclamation.

"Curse you, do you mean to bandy words with me, you scum?" cried Sir
George.

He snatched a fagot from John and drew back his arm to strike him. John
took one step back from Sir George and one step nearer to Dorothy.

"Yes, Thomas," said Dorothy, sneeringly, "bring Welch with the manacles
for me. My dear father would put me in the dungeon out of the reach of
other men, so that he may keep me safely for my unknown lover. Go, Thomas.
Go, else father will again be forsworn before Christ and upon his
knighthood."

"This before a servant! I'll gag you, you hellish vixen," cried Sir
George. Then I am sure