Sir Payan thought for a moment. "It must e'en be so," said he at length. "Take him, but do not hurt him; and as to his bags, do as you like." "Oh! hurt him! no!" answered the other. "In six months he shall be so good a sailor as any of the others, and two thousand miles away. But we must get off to-night. I will go down, get the boat close under the cliffs, and be back by about one o'clock in the morning. Have all ready against I come, the gold and the order--warrant, as you call it, and all; and lock all my men up in the big granary, with a thing of bacon, and a big cask of liquor; so shall they be all drunk before three, and asleep by four, and sober again by the while I am back, and nobody hear anything about their being here at all." "That you must do yourself before you go," said Sir Payan. "In the mean time, I must take care that the prisoners be kept out of sight, for a lady cousin is to be here by noon, and neither she nor hers must hear of this. I myself must be away. She came not yesterday when she should have come; and fain would I pick a quarrel with her house, for they have lands too near my own to be any others than my own. So, though I have ordered her a banquet, yet shall she be served with scanty courtesy; then, if one word of anger fall from her, there shall more follow." "Oh! if I be here when she shall come," said the Portingal, "I will give her some cause either to be pleased or angry." "What wilt thou do, fellow?" demanded Sir Payan sternly. "Beware! remember she is of my blood." "Oh! nothing, nothing!" replied the captain, "only tell her some little compliment upon her beauty. But, my good worship, can you trust all your men about these prisoners?" "All! all!" replied Sir Payan. "There is no fear. No one of them but I could hang one way or another, and they know it. All except Heartley, and he is bound to me by an illegal oath, wrung from him by fear of seeing his father driven out this hard winter. But 'tis past noon now. Ho! without there! Send in my clerk. What! are the horses saddled? Farewell, Sir Portingal, till one i' the morning!" CHAPTER VI. Thrice had I loved thee Before I knew thy face or name: So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, Angels affect us oft, and worshipped be.--Donne.