"I understand that you may say so, sir."

"And that I mean it, too, I hope. Listen, Christopher," he added, with
earnestness, but in a kindly voice. "Believe me, I like you well, and
would not give you pain, or the maid yonder, if I could help it. Yet I
have no choice. I am threatened on all sides by priest and king, and you
have lost your heritage. She is the only jewel that I can pawn, and for
your own safety's sake and her children's sake, must marry well. Yonder
Despard will not live long, he drinks too hard; and then your day may
come, if you still care for his leavings--perhaps in two years, perhaps
in less, for she will soon see him out. Now, let us talk no more of
the matter, but if aught befalls me, be a friend to her. Here comes the
liquor--drink it up and be off. Though I seem rough with you, my hope is
that you may quaff many another cup at Shefton."



It was seven o'clock of the next morning, and Sir John, having eaten
his breakfast, was girding on his sword--for Jeffrey had already gone
to fetch the horses--when the door opened and his daughter entered the
great hall, candle in hand, wrapped in a fur cloak, over which her long
hair fell. Glancing at her, Sir John noted that her eyes were wide and
frightened.

"What is it now, girl?" he asked. "You'll take your death of cold among
these draughts."

"Oh! father," she said, kissing him, "I came to bid you farewell,
and--and--to pray you not to start."