The languishing glance that accompanied these languishing syllables had no immediate effect upon the lady to whom they were addressed. Still Brilliana looked fixedly at her visitor, and still Sir Blaise found little ease under her steady gaze. He blinked uncomfortably; his fingers twitched; he tried to moisten his dry lips. At length, out of what seemed a wellnigh ageless silence, the lady spoke, and her words were an arraignment. "Why did you not come to Harby when Harby needed help?" Sir Blaise felt weak in the knees, weak in the back, weak in the wits; he would have given much for a seat, more for a sup of brandy. But he had to speak, and did so after such gasping and stammering as spoiled his false bravado. "I came to speak of that," he protested, forcing a jauntiness that he was far from feeling. "I feared you might misunderstand--" "Indeed," interrupted Brilliana, "I think there is no misunderstanding." Sir Blaise made an appealing gesture. "Hear me out," he pleaded. "Hear me and pity me. The news of his Majesty's quarrel with his Parliament threw me into such a distemper as hath kept me to my bed these three weeks. My people held all news from me for my life's sake. It was but this morning I was judged sound enough to hear of all that has passed. How otherwise should I not have flown to your succor? I could wish your siege had lasted a while longer to give me the glory of delivering you." The sternness faded from Brilliana's gaze. She was not really angry with this overcareful gentleman; she would only have been grieved had he proved the man to serve her well. He was no more for such enterprises than your lap-dog for bull-baiting. Ridiculous in his finery, pitiful in his subterfuge, he was only a thing to smile at, to trifle with. So she smiled, and, rising, swept him a splendid reverence. "I am your gallantry's very grateful servant," she whispered, having much ado to keep from laughing in his face. The fatuous are easily pacified. "I hope you do not doubt my valor?" he asked, with some show of reassurance. "Indeed I have no doubt," Brilliana answered, with another courtesy. The speech might have two meanings. Sir Blaise, unwilling to split hairs, took it as balsam, and hurriedly turned the conversation. "Well! well!" he hummed. "You seem nothing the worse for your business." "I am something the better," she said, softly. Perhaps Sir Blaise did not hear her. "Is it true," he asked, "that you harbor a Crop-ear in this house?" "Indeed," Brilliana confirmed, "I hold him as hostage for the life of Cousin Randolph. You know that he is a prisoner?" "I heard that news with the rest of the budget," Sir Blaise answered. "And what kind of a creature is your captive? Does he deafen you with psalms, does he plague you with exhortations?" Brilliana laughed merrily. "No, no; 'tis a most wonderful wild-fowl. My people swear he is mettled in all gentle arts, from the manage of horses to the casting of a falcon."