"You said we were going to the Fleet, but we're not. Where are you
taking me?"

"Don't trouble about such a trifle, darling little one," he cried gaily.
"Aren't you with me? What more do you want? Come, kiss me. Let us forget
everything but our two selves."

He would have embraced her but she repulsed him angrily.

"No. If you've altered your mind--if we're not to be married tell me so,
and I'll leave you to yourself," she cried agitatedly.

"Leave me? And d'you think I'll let you go when you're looking handsomer
than ever? Faith, what d'you take me for? You dear fluttering little
Venus. Why, you're trembling? But hang me, it must be with joy as I am."

Both his arms were round her. She struggled to free herself; pushed his
face away and panting, strove to reach the window, but he was strong and
prevented her.

"I'll go no further with you," she cried. "Set me down at once or I'll
scream for help."

"You pretty little fool. Much help you'll get here. Oh, you shall look
if you want to, but your wings must be clipped first."

He gripped both her wrists and held them fast. Her frightened eyes
glanced through the window. She heard a confused thud of hoofs, now and
again the deep bellowing of cattle, in the distance dogs barking,
drivers yelling. She could see horned heads moving up and down. The
coach was now moving very slowly. It was surrounded by a drove of
bullocks from the Essex marshes going to Smithfield.

"You see?" laughed Dorrimore. "D'you suppose I would set you down to be
tossed and gored by vulgar cattle. Why the sight of your red ribands
would send them mad, as it's nearly sent me."

"I don't care. I'd rather be with them than with you. I hate you," she
screamed with tears in her voice.

"Really? I'll warrant your hate'll turn to love before we part," he
jeered. "I'm not going to see you come to harm, so I shall hold your
pretty wrists tightly. How round and slender they are! So, you're my
prisoner."

"I'm not and I won't be."

Somehow she dragged her right wrist away and dealt him a smart blow on
his cheek.

"You would fight, would you? What a little spitfire it is! No matter. I
love you all the better. For every smart you give me you shall be repaid
with a dozen kisses. If that isn't returning good for evil may I never
handle a dice box again. There, do as you like. Lay your white hand
again on my face. The bigger debt you run up the better."

Despite his banter he was very savage and he