ing, "I will take but a
mouthful to stay me, and then set forth straightway in quest o' th'
rascal." So having dined right heartily, he rode forth again.

Now, having related this hap to Marian, she was devoured of so great a
curiosity that, as I am an honest man, I looked to see her consumed even
unto her bones, as some men who burn of drink. She would have it that I
must hazard a guess on the shape of Lord Denbeigh's nose, the color of
his hair, and the height of his body. She forced me to wonder whether he
were civil or rude of tongue. She pressed me to say whether I thought
there was aye a chance of his returning with Sir John. She questioned
me, in a word, until, having no answers, I was like to lose my wits, or
my temper, or both together. At last comes she and sits on my knee, and
tickles the back of my neck right playfully, as in the days of our
wooing.

"As I live, Tony," quoth she, "we are like to have a strange story under
our very noses. What if"--and here she takes my face in her two hands,
and sets her chin against mine, so that I see four round blue eyes
against her white brow, and am like to go blind with her
thoughtlessness--"what if it turns out that the Lord hath set upon our
lady to be the saviour of this wicked earl?"

"Ay," cried I. "And what if the Lord hath set upon me to be the founder
of a nation, like Abraham? What then?" At which she boxed my ears right
soundly. But I could not blame her, for in the wrong I was, without
doubt, although verily she had plagued me into it. So I sued for pardon,
and got it, and a kiss into the bargain. But she would not leave me in
peace concerning Lord Denbeigh.

When that same afternoon there comes Sir John a-riding past, and the bad
earl at his side, "What dost thou say now?" quoth Marian, a-plucking me
in a way that did not serve to increase good feeling betwixt us. "Ah
ha! Are not women prophetesses by nature?"

"Ay, by ill-nature," answered I; and for this quip I was not forgiven
for two days.

It was towards the setting of the sun when Sir John and Lord Denbeigh
rode up to the door of Amhurste, and my lady, knowing naught, came out
at the sound of the horses' feet, thinking only to greet her uncle. The
red light from the west shone on her, and dabbled her white kirtle as
with blood, and her face was like one of the red roses in her garden. So
she put up her hand to shield it, and saw the stranger standing at her
feet.

There was ne'er a nobler-loo