"Don't say one way or the other, Vag. If it should end in the King being conqueror, Hollymead will be no more a home for us. It would even cease to belong to us." "I almost wish it never had." "Why that?" "You should know, Sab. But for my father sending him there after those worthless things, he would not now be--" "Dear Vaga!" interrupted the elder sister entreatingly. "For your life do not let father hear you speak in that strain. 'Twould vex him very much, and, as you yourself know, he has grieved over it already." "Ah, true. I won't say a word about it again, in his hearing, anyhow-- you may trust me. But it's hard to think of my dear Eustace being in a prison--shut up in a dark dungeon, perhaps hungering, thirsting, and, worse than all, suffering ill-treatment at the hands of some cruel jailer." She was justified in calling him her "dear Eustace" now, and giving him all her sympathies. Since that night of perverse misconceptions at Montserrat House there had been many an interview between them; the thread of their interrupted dialogue by Ruardean Hill had been taken up again, and spun into a cord which now bound them together by vows of betrothal. Of their engagement Sabrina was aware, and under the like herself, she could well comprehend her sister's feelings. True, her betrothed was not in a prison, but she knew not how soon he might be--or worse, dead on the battlefield. Invincible as she believed him, war had its adverse fates, was full of perils, every day, as the other had said, fraught with new anxieties and fears. Concealing her own, she essayed to dispel those of her sister, rejoining,-- "Nonsense, Vag. Nothing so bad. Why should they treat him with cruelty?" "You forget that they call him renegade. And they on the King's side are most spiteful against all who turn from them. Think how his own cousin acted towards him; and 'tis said his father disowned him. Besides, other prisoners have been scandalously treated by the Cavaliers, some even tortured. And they may torture him." "No fear of their doing that. Even if disposed they're not likely to have the opportunity." "But they have it now." "Not quite." "I don't comprehend you, Sab." "It's very simple. Heartless as many of the Royalists leaders are, and vindictive, they will be restrained by the thought of retaliation. At this time our people hold two prisoners to their one. A large number of these Monmouth men, with their officers, have been taken at Beachley, and that will insure humane treatment to your Eustace. So make you mind easy about him." It became easier as she listened to the cheering words, almost reassured by others spoken in continuation. "In any case," pursued Sabrina, "his captors are not likely to have the time for _torturing_, as you put it. Richard's last letter says he and his troops were at High Meadow House--the Halls', near Staunton, you know?"