It was plain to Sir Blaise that a man must be very deep in the dumps who was not to be tempted by hot ale. "Lordamercy, are you for changing sides now?" he asked. As Halfman made him no answer but continued to stare gloomily into the garden, Blaise concluded that the interest lay there which made him thus distracted. So he came down to the table and looked over Halfman's shoulder. In the distance he saw a man and woman walking among the trees. The man was patently the Puritan prisoner, the woman was the chatelaine of Harby. The pair seemed very deep in converse. As Sir Blaise looked, they were out of sight round a turning. Halfman gave a heavy groan and spoke, more to himself, as it seemed, than to his companion. "Look how they walk in the garden, ever in talk. Time was she would walk and talk with me, listen to my wars and wanderings, and call me a gallant captain." "Are you jealous of the Puritan prisoner?" Blaise asked, astonished. Halfman answered with an oath. "Oh, God, that the siege had lasted forever, or that she had kept her word and blown us sky high." Blaise began to snigger. "'Ods-life! do you dare a love for your lady?" he said. He had better not have said it. Halfman turned on him with a face like a demon's and the plump knight recoiled. "Why the red devil should I not," Halfman asked, hoarsely, "if a bumpkin squire like you may do as much?" Blaise tried to domineer, but the effort was feeble before the fierceness in Halfman's glare. "Are you speaking to me, your superior?" he stammered. Halfman answered him mockingly, with a voice that swelled in menace as the taunting speech ran on. "Will you ride against me, cross swords with me, come to grips with me any way? You dare not. I am well born, have seen things, done things 'twould make you shiver to hear of them. Come, I am in a fiend's humor; come with your sword to the orchard and see which of us is the better man." Sir Blaise was in a fair panic at this raging fury he had conjured up and now was fain to pacify. "Soft, soft, honest captain; why so choleric? I would not wrong you. But surely you do not think she favors this Puritan?" "Oh, he's a proper man, damn him!" Halfman admitted. "He has a right to a woman's liking. And he must love her, God help him! as every man does that looks on her." Blaise looked pathetic. "What is there to do?" he asked, helplessly. Halfman struck his right fist into his left palm. "I would do something, I promise you. He is no immortal. But we shall be rid of him soon. If Colonel Cromwell do not surrender Cousin Randolph we are pledged to his killing, and if he do, then our friend rejoins his army; and I pray the devil my master that I may have the joy to pistol him on some stricken field." Sir Blaise thought it was time to change the conversation. "Let us leave these ravings and vaporings," he entreated, wheedling, "and return to the business of life. And 'tis a very unpleasant business I come on."