’Prithee, young madam, don’t take it to heart; this English girl is but wanted to answer a few questions.’ But Etta, though pale, would not show any fear even while her heart sank within her. ’I will follow you an you touch me not,’ she said, raising her fair head loftily. ’In truth I’ll not touch thee, young one,’ said Nat Salt, who had a curiously soft heart, considering what he had seen and done. ’Come then, it will not be ten minutes’ work. But mind! don’t go acting the dumb dog before that Frenchman; I’fecks, he’s as hard as a millstone on man, woman, or child--Morgan’s an angel to him.’ As they passed out the two soldiers guarding the door stared hard at the girl, who walked by Nat’s side as if she were a princess. ’There’s a bit of sunshine in the wench’s hair,’ said one of them, ’but it will go hard with her if she is to get into the hands of the dragon.’ Poor Etta! it was to go hard with her. ’Come, child, make haste and tell me what I ask, and then you can go back to your friends,’ said Simon. ’Where did the Marquis hide his gold before Morgan landed? He must surely have been busy over that work.’ Etta lifted her pretty head, and gazed at the Frenchman with indignant blue eyes. ’As if I should tell the secrets of the Marquis to you!’ she said quickly. ’Ah! so you are not going to tell--for of course you know?’ and he laughed softly. ’English girls don’t tell tales,’ said Etta. ’Well, we’ll see. Come, Nat, where’s the rope? A little pressure on the wrists acts to the tongue like oil to rusty hinges.’ Etta saw the rope, and some of her courage forsook her. She tried to run past Nat, but with one stride he caught her, and, twisting the rope round both her wrists in a peculiar fashion, he began pulling the noose tight, then tighter. Etta shut her eyes and thought of Carlo and of Harry. She knew the Marquis had hidden some of the gold in an old well, under the flags of the inner courtyard, but she did not mean to tell. God helping her, she would not be a traitor. ’Now,’ said Simon, ’draw it tight, Nat, and see if that won’t make her speak. Where is the gold, girl? Quick, and you shall be released. One, two--where? Pull tighter, Nat.’ Etta, in spite of herself, uttered a scream, shrill and piercing, which made Simon laugh. ’I thought the bird would pipe to some tune. Come, Nat, a little tighter. Where is the gold?’ ’It is not mine: how can I tell? I won’t! no, I won’t! It’s Carlo’s money if his father is dead. Oh!’ She struggled to get away, but this only increased her agony. ’One, two, three; it will hurt more yet if you don’t speak.’ ’Come, tell Sieur Simon, wench. You’ll not see the Marquis till Martinmas, if then, so you needn’t be afraid of him.’ Another pull, another sharp agony, and Etta felt that she could bear no more, when suddenly there was a rush into the hall of some half-dozen men, all shouting and tumbling over each other, and looking scared out of their lives.