"Almost as soon as the fray began, the pretty Dutchwoman came to the window behind 'em, and talked with the big fellow, who seems to be in command. I crept near, but they jabbered in their own tongue. All I could make out was that she repeated 'Fermoyden' three or four times and seemed to be laying down the law to the big chap. Then off she flew, like a bird, and my Lord Sheffield came out of the house in a hurry (it was when young Squire Vavasour was cracking skulls like walnuts) and he ordered the Dutchmen to go to the help of his men, but the big captain shook his head, and either did not understand or pretended that he didn't. My lord stamped with rage, and made his meaning plain by signs; but the other wouldn't budge, and repeated 'Fermoyden.' Fermoyden hasn't come yet, and they are waiting for him." "What do you make of this, Frank? You came to the tavern with the lady." "That the lady had the wit to charge the Dutch captain not to aid the Mulgrave men, but to refuse under the plea that he must have Vermuijden's authority for interfering in a quarrel which was none of his." "By Jove, it looks uncommonly like that; and if so, some of us have to thank the lady that we are alive." Of that I had no manner of doubt. While Dick's ill-timed jest and my hot-headed fury at a blow had brought about a broil which had cost Staniforth's life, and some others, Mistress Goel had prevented conflict between the Dutch and our Islonian crowd. As we turned the corner of the tavern (the pursuit had led us along a heathery track to the rear of it) we met Sheffield and his blackamoor, mounted, and bound apparently for Castle Mulgrave. He drew rein, and snarled-- "Treason and murder are merry sport, doubtless, but it ends in hanging, drawing, and quartering." Now I knew whose was the voice which said "Shoot, dolts, shoot;" and the feeling which the knowledge stirred in me must have been plain in my face, for Dick linked his arm in mine, and drew me on, saying, loud enough for Sheffield to hear-- "Let the beaten dog yelp." We bade the tavern-keeper, who met us at his door, provide food and drink, for some of us had not eaten since early morning; and I went in search of water to cleanse myself from blood and dust, not wishing Mistress Goel to see me in my filthy plight. In truth, I shrank from meeting her, for now that my fury and strength were spent, I was ashamed of my blustering rage. But it so chanced as I went to the pump that Mistress Goel overtook me, going to the barn with a basket. At the sound of her light, gliding step, I turned, and she paled at sight of me. "You are sorely wounded, I fear," she said. "Come to my father, who is in the barn." "I have nothing worse than a few bruises and scratches," I answered. "For that I have to thank you; your quick wit and kindness have saved several lives to-day."