"And my neck is in a noose," said I, feeling a twinge of jealousy in that Stubbs had been favoured above me, and I told him of my being a hostage for the life of the maid’s father. "Why, then, the general will have a care that he comes to no harm," said Stubbs, "seeing that an English gentleman is of more value than many mere Irish." "In his own conceit," said that sweet and tunable voice, and the lady came into the room, attended as before by her ancient dame of the sour visage. "Good morrow, Master Rudd." "Good morrow, Mistress Sheila," said I, shooting a look at her as I made my bow. A flush mantled her cheek at this hearing of her name. "I brook no plots nor complots between you two," said she. "I bade your servant attend you as a grace, Master Rudd." "For which you have my hearty thanks, madam," said I. "The conversation of your servitor is a child’s babble, and the reading of your books breeds only discontent." "You have but to give your word, and you are free to range this castle, sir," said she. "’Twould be but to beat my wings against the bars of my cage," said I. "A bird, quotha!" said she, laughing. "His feathers are ruffled, and he stints his song." "He has no mate, madam," said I; and after more bandying of words, she departed again. So passed some few days, the while I nursed my strength for the attempt whereon I was resolved. The lady paid me fitful visits, and I looked for them ever more wistfully. Once, when I had not seen her for thirty hours or more, I dared to read aloud at her entrance, from the book of Master Spenser’s sonnets upon my knees, the concluding verses— "Dark is my day, whiles her fair light I miss, And dead my life that wants such lively bliss;" whereupon she took the book from my hand, averring that such woebegone stuff would but addle my wits. She spoke as one chiding a froward child, and I acknowledged to myself that she had dealt tenderly with my presumption. One day when she came to me I perceived that all was not well with her. Her bright hue was faded, her eye was sad, and whereas she was wont to be merry with quips, answering me right saucily, her spirit was now leaden. She heard me in silence, and heaved many a sigh. I guessed that she had received ill news, and by little and little I got from her what it was that so much troubled her. She told me that the O’Neill had been signally worsted, and was withdrawing himself deeper into his mountain fastnesses. She feared for her father’s safety, and then, with a flash of her old spirit, she struck my table and declared right vehemently— "If my father is taken, and suffers what is threatened against him, I vow, Master Rudd, that you shall dangle from the castle wall, a feast for kites and crows." And then she broke into a passion of weeping and fled out of the room.