Gabriel was entirely absorbed in watching the combatants; he did not notice that a stalwart gentleman, with long, light brown hair and a short, pointed beard, had quietly opened the door behind him, and he started violently when Sir William Waller strode across the room, Joscelyn Heyworth closing the door as he followed his chief. “Gentlemen!” exclaimed the General, striking up their swords. “What is the meaning of this?” “Sir,” said the Major, “I was bound to avenge a gross insult to my daughter.” “You must not fight a duel here,” said Sir William, sternly. “Colonel Norton has a free pass, and I am bound to see that he returns in safety to Prince Maurice.” “It is an entirely private matter, sir,” said Norton. “It will be a satisfaction to us both to carry the matter through.” “Very possibly,” said Waller, giving Norton a keen glance with his blue-grey eyes, and quickly taking the measure of the man. “But private affairs, sir, must ever yield to public duties. Your companion awaits you, with my letter in reply to the Prince. I wish you good night, sir.” Norton, with a shrug of the shoulders sheathed his sword, donned his doublet and cloak, and, with a sweeping bow, waved his hat in farewell. “Good-night, gentlemen,” he said, with easy courtesy. “Major, to our next merry meeting!” and with an ironical smile and a mockingly profound bow to his enemy he strode out of the room. “I crave your pardon, sir,” said Major Locke, “but when that wolf in sheep’s clothing shamelessly proclaimed his wicked designs on my child I could not restrain myself.” “Well, Major, we will say no more of the matter,” said Waller. “I can well understand that your feelings as a father overpowered all remembrance of your duty as an officer.” “Sir, I implore you to let me ride home at once and place my daughter out of this villain’s reach. He tells me that early to-morrow Prince Maurice intends to attack my Manor House, with a view to having a garrison there.” “These outlying garrisons are the curse of the country,” said Waller, stroking his moustache meditatively. “Is your house capable of standing a siege if we sent a detachment to help them?” “No, sir, not at such short notice, though it could be made a formidable place had we time.” “I cannot let you go off on a private errand to-night, Major. You are indispensable to me, and I have given my word to Massey that I will join him at Tewkesbury early tomorrow morning. We must march from here in three hours’ time.” The poor Major moved away with a look of such despair that Waller, always a most kindly and considerate man, hastily turned over in his mind two or three schemes for aiding him. “You say you could place your daughter out of Norton’s reach. Where could you place her?” “Here, sir, in Gloucester, under the care of my trusty friend, Alderman Pury. I know he would shelter her.” “Well, let your servant ride home now and fetch the lady, rejoining you to-morrow evening at Tewkesbury.”