The sounds behind her had caused the old woman to turn round the moment before, and, seeing Ella struggling to free herself from the man who held her, she turned to remonstrate, exclaiming, "What are you about, sirs? Let the young woman go!" "Get you gone, old beldame!" cried the other man, thrusting her back. "What is it to you?" and at the same time he seized Ella by the other arm, and hurried her on, in spite of her resistance. "Beldame, indeed!" exclaimed the old woman, gazing after them. "Marry, thou art not civil. If thou callest me so, I will call thee Davy.[2] I will see whither they go, however;" and thus saying, at the utmost speed she could master, she followed the men who were dragging poor Ella Brune along, calling in vain for help--for the houses in that part of the suburb were few, and principally consisted either of the large gothic mansions of the nobility, shut in within their own gates and surrounded by gardens, or the inns of prelates, isolated in the same manner. Whither they were dragging her, the old woman could not divine: for she thought it unlikely that any of the persons who dwelt in that neighbourhood would sanction such a violent act. Ella herself, however, knew right well, for she had taken the same road the day before, on her brief visit to Sir Simeon of Roydon. Peril and wandering, and sad chances of various kinds, such as seldom are the lot of one so young, had taught her to remark every particular that passed before her eyes with a precision which fixed things in her memory that might have escaped the sight of others; and she had seen the snake embroidered on the breast and back of the knight's servants, and recognised the badge instantly on those who held her. --------------------- [Footnote 2: A common expression of the lower classes of Londoners in old times.] --------------------- As she expected, the men stopped at the gates of the house, which were open, and dragged her into the court; but her cries and her resistance ceased the moment she had reached that place, for she knew that they were both in vain, and made up her mind from that moment to the course which she had to pursue. "Ha, ha! pretty maiden," said the man who had first spoken to her. "You are now willing to go, are you? Our lord is not lightly to be refused a visit from any fair dame. Come, come, I can manage her now, Pilcher; you stay at the foot of the stairs. Will you come willingly, girl, or must we carry you?"