"I mean before it is too late," said Gil, speaking humbly and imploringly as he forced himself into making this last appeal, before venturing on an act that was repugnant to him, and which on calmer consideration he would have avoided for Mace's sake. "Gil Carr!" cried the founder, furiously, "go thy way, and let me go mine. I will not be dictated to by the man who has come like a blight upon my threshold. Like a treacherous adder, thou hast stung the hand that warmed thee back to life. Coward--villain--thou could'st do nothing better than set thy snares to trap my weak child. Now go, or--" He raised his hand and dropped it again. "For heaven's sake, listen to me!" cried Gil, excitedly. "Master Cobbe, I would be an honourable gentleman for my father's sake, to thee and thine, but you drive me to despair." In his eagerness he caught the founder by the arm, but the latter turned upon him furiously, mad as he was with rage against himself as much as with the suppliant, whom he struck heavily across the face, and then strode away. Gil staggered back as much from surprise as from the weight of the blow, and the blood in a hot flush of passion suffused his face. "For thy sake, darling," he said, calming down, "for thy sake. There, Master Cobbe, I have done my duty as a man; if blood be shed in what follows, I wash my hands of it; for 'fore God I swear, that if I fail in one way, I'd kill my darling at the altar before she should become that fellow's wife." "Captain--quick--this way, Captain!" cried a voice in a hasty whisper. "What is it, Croftly?" "This way, skipper. Here in at this furnace-mouth; it is open behind. Follow me." "What for, man?" cried Gil, sternly, as he saw the grimy face of Croftly at the opening to one of the great brick smelting-furnaces now void and cold. "Sir Mark, with a dozen men be surrounding the place." Gil's hand flew to his sword, but he let it fall. "Nay," he said, "we must have the wisdom of the serpent here. We'll try that first, and if it fails--the sword." Entering the furnace, then, Croftly helped him into a black passage beyond, which let them pass between two vast stacks of charcoal to the rough track into the forest, which Gil reached unseen, while Sir Mark, with a dozen men, searched the powder-sheds and furnaces in vain. Volume 2, Chapter XIX. HOW MOTHER GOODHUGH WENT TO WORK. "Thou wicked old hag," cried Anne Beckley, angrily, as she stood in Mother Goodhugh's cottage. "Here have I, against my better sense, trusted to thee, and laid bare the secrets of my heart, and for what?" Mother Goodhugh smiled maliciously. "To make thee rich with gold pieces while thou hast done naught but mock at me and laugh." "Nay, sweet Mistress," said the old woman, "I smiled not at thee. I thought of what had passed." "And what had passed?" "Thou hast not known thine own heart, and one day it has been set on Captain Culverin, and another day on the gay young knight of London."