But at the word Mistress Alison steps out o’ the gloom, and in the glare of the firelight I saw her cheek aflame with the rarest crimson. “I crave your pardon, cousin!” says she--’egad, ’twas the first time she had so styled me since I entered the house--“I have forgotten my duty because of all this trouble. Barbara, see that Master Coope is served--nay,” she says, “I will see to it myself,” and she bustles about, and brings me meat and drink, and sets it with her own fair hands on the table before me. “Cousin,” says I, looking hard at her, “I thank you. I am sorry,” I says, and then stops, not knowing what more, nor what I had meant, to say. “But I thank you,” I says. “Indeed, I am both hungry and thirsty.”
“I am sorry, too,” she says--but she did not look at me, her eyes being fixed on the fire--“I should have invited you to eat.” She stood there, lingering, and still she would not look at me. “I fear,” she says at last, and faith, there was a still brighter crimson in her cheeks, “I fear I have been somewhat hasty--and--and--I thank you for--for what you are doing for Sir Nicholas, cousin Richard,”--and suddenly she turned, and gave me one shamefaced sort o’ look, and fled up the stairs.
Heigh-ho! I believe it was then that I fell in love with thee, my sweet! Lord! what a colour, and what eyes she had!
Being now considerably refreshed, and having reviewed my situation as I sat at meat, with the result that I made up my mind to attend to the business of the moment, and leave all thoughts of the future until such time as they must perforce be settled with, I arose from the table and went the round of my men, whom I found very vigilant and ready to discharge their several duties when need arose. It was then close on midnight and we had been invaded for nearly two hours, but so far, the enemy had remained quiescent, and had not so much as re-demanded our submission. He continued very peaceful, and appeared to have temporarily withdrawn his forces. When I reached the window at which I had posted Gregory, I found that the courtyard was empty, and that all was so still and peaceful, save for the sighing of a somewhat angry wind, that no one would have guessed we were withstanding a siege. But there was naught to reassure us in that.