The door was opened further to admit a plump creature who flew to her, and sobbed, and laughed. "Señorita! They have not harmed you!" She fell to patting Dominica's hands, and kissing them. "But where were you all this time?" Dominica asked. "They locked me in the cabin, señorita! Miguel de Vasso it was! Serve him right that he took a grievous knock on the head! But you?" "I am safe," Dominica answered. "But what will happen to us I know not. The world's upside down, I believe." The man with the mustachios came into the room and revealed a spare figure garbed in sober brown fustian. "Have no fear, señora," said this worthy cheerfully. "You sail upon the _Venture_, and we do not harm women. Faith of an Englishman!" "Who are you?" Dominica asked. "I," said the thin man, puffing out his chest, "am no less a person, señora, than Sir Nicholas Beauvallet's own familiar servant, Joshua Dimmock, at your orders. Ho, there! bring on the baggage!" This was addressed to someone without. In a moment two younkers appeared laden, and dumped down their burdens upon the floor. They lingered, gaping at the lady, but Joshua waved his hands at them. "Hence, get hence, numskulls!" He hustled them out, and shut the door upon them. "Please you, noble lady, I will dispose." He looked upon the mountain of baggage, laid a finger to his nose, skipped to the cupboard, and flung it open. The raiment of Master Dangerfield was exposed to Maria's titters. Joshua swooped, came away with an armful of doublets and hose, and cast them into the alleyway outside the cabin. "Ho there! Avoid me these trappings!" he commanded, and the two women heard footsteps coming quickly in obedience to the summons. Joshua returned to the cupboard and swept it bare, flung out the boots and the pantoffles that stood ranged upon its floor, and stepped back to observe with pride the barrenness of his creating. "So!" The chest caught his eye; he went to it in a rush, lifted the lid, and clicked his tongue in impatience. He seemed to dive into it head first. Dominica sat down on the cushioned seat to watch the surprising gyrations of Master Dimmock. Maria knelt by her, clasping a hand still in both of hers, and giggled under her breath. An indignant voice was uplifted in the alleyway. "Who cast them here? That coystrill! Dimmock, Joshua Dimmock, may the black vomit seize you! Master Dangerfield's fine Venice hosen to lie in the dust! Come out, ye skinny rogue!"