"Pooh! Where are thy wits, Prue?" he asked teasingly. "You shall not mock me," she panted. "But in good earnest, Rob, ’tis impossible." "Come, Prue, no despair. Why, I have seen him hand thee his keys a hundred times." "Aye, but that was for the cellar, when he fancied a certain wine at supper, or maybe for his bureau in the counting-house, to fetch papers or moneys. Not—not—Rob!" "Well!" "Thinkest thou not, perchance that a glass of hot port wine might help my Lady Cicely to sleep." "Prue! Thou has hit on the very plan. And once the chain is in my hands, the key of the shed is ours. But go to thy father quickly, sweet, or ’twill be too late, and Lady Cicely will fall asleep before her drink be prepared." "Oh! Rob, I shall laugh when I ask him; I know I shall." "Not you, Prue. I’ve too good cause to know your powers of acting a part." Prue laughed and blushed at this reference to the evening’s quarrel. Then she sprang quickly to her feet. "Well, I must do my best. Do you wait here, Rob, and in ten minutes I’ll be with you." She darted across the grass and disappeared into the shadow of the trees. Robert awaited her return in a frenzy of impatience. So much depended upon the success of the girl’s errand, so many obstacles presented themselves before his mind. For Master Lane might hand her the cellar key alone instead of the chain, though that were never his way. Or Mistress Lane might be with her husband and disapprove of her daughter’s request. Or Deb might accompany her sister to the cellar, or Prue herself, in her excitement, might betray the plot. Of the danger, the madness of the undertaking he thought not at all. Once embarked upon the enterprise he was carried along by the excitement of the adventure it promised. Like Prue, he lost sight of other considerations in view of the daring of the attempt. Presently he saw her coming towards him, her white dress gleaming through the trees, and as he darted to meet her, he heard the jingle of the keys. She had succeeded in her quest. "Here they are," she whispered, her eyes dancing with triumph. "Take it quickly, I must not keep Dad waiting. He was alone. He gave them without a question. ’The whole cellar full if ’twill aid Lady Cicely,’ he said. Is that the one, art sure? Then give me the chain, and go. Here is the key of the garden gate. I will watch. Keep out of danger and be careful. But oh! Rob, is it not fine? You and I to outwit them all, my Lord Jeffreys and the governor, and—and the very law itself." He laughed aloud, sharing to the full her excitement. Then without further parley he set out on his errand, leaving Prue to her eager watch for his return.