“Nay, nay,” said Dacre, hastily. “Fenton, make ready to proceed; let those only go with us who do not fear; take no man against his will. I have but newly touched English ground, Sir Jasper, and was on my way to greet my mother. Know you if she is still in London? I must hasten now to bring her home.” “Then hast thou less philosophy than I gave thee credit for, Sir Philip,” said the stranger, emptying as he spoke a goblet of wine; “for in good sooth I know no noble lady more entirely able to care for her own safety, and her household’s, than the Lady Dacre; and bethink thee, good friend, _she_ hath but to escape out of the danger she is already in, whereas thou would’st thrust thyself into what affects thee not. Tush, man, think of it again--it is an enterprise savoring of his conceit who went forth a knight-errant in the Spanish story; thou knowest him of La Mancha? If thou hadst been among yonder fair ladies of Lisbon, I should warrant thee to hear of his exploits full plenty.” “I crave your pardon, Sir Jasper,” said Dacre, gravely. “I am no Quixote, nor am I used to depart from my purposes at stroke of wit or jesting. I pray you alight and share my meal with me: it will detain you little on your journey, and I would fain hear further of this pestilence.” “Hear to him--hear to him!” exclaimed the landlady, concealing her pleasure under a semblance of annoyance as she touched Edith on the shoulder, and showed her the little table spread with refreshments. “He will bring the other swaggering cavalier over my honest threshold, and what will Dame Whittaker say to that, I trow! I know not when she had as many plumed caps in her court-yard, Round-heads and Puritans as they call us. Well-a-day! and you would hear of that woeful plague and how the cavalier yonder--lo! now he is alighting and yonder does my goodman hold the stirrup--was flying from the face of it. Ah, Mistress Edith! look at his sword and that scar on his brow was gotten in the wars; and what a mighty man he is, like the giant in the Scripture that David slew, and yet the like of him flies before the pestilence and thinks no shame to tell it! To think of that now.” “But he is not a minister of the Word,” said Edith to herself unconsciously.