For the next two days I was in high fever, and my guardians refused to give Dick another opportunity of conversing with me. Luke was my best nurse and companion in these days, for my stolid man was in love, and in love with Martha, Anna's maid. They contrived to meet somehow, whenever I gave him permission to cross to Sandtoft, which I was never loath to do. If he had asked leave to go seven times a week, I should not have said him nay. In fact, losing count of time as I sometimes did, by reason of weakness and wandering of mind, I would ask him if he meant to go to-day, and he would answer, "Lord love you, Measter Frank, an' 'twere but yesterday I fared across." Through Luke I heard of my love, and she sent me messages, and gave him directions about the treatment of my hurts and as to my diet, Luke it was who told me that her mother was an English woman, the daughter of a London merchant, who had gone into exile for conscience sake. Martha also was of English parentage, the child of a servant who had accompanied the family to the Netherlands. "Which accounts for her pastry-making," added Luke. Through Luke I heard that Vliet pressed his suit with ardour, Doctor Goel seconding him; but that I had a friend at court in the maid, who was a humble friend rather than a common servant, and hated Sebastian with a perfect hatred. I was surprised and perplexed to hear Sheffield had visited Sandtoft, and struck up a friendship with Vliet. This I could not understand, and it disquieted me. At the end of a fortnight I could go about a little, but the wounds in the shoulder did not properly heal, and I recovered strength but slowly. One day as I sat out on the lawn in front of the house, Luke near me, busied in cleaning a gun, an old woman, with a tattered shawl over her head and a basket on her arm, came feebly up the drive, now and then coughing asthmatically. In a wheezing voice she begged to be allowed to show me the contents of her basket. Luke gave her his stool, which she accepted with profuse gratitude, and then asked for a drink of water. "Bring her a cordial, Luke," I said, as he went off to the kitchen. As soon as he was out of hearing, the old woman said in Bess Boswell's voice. "Send him away again when he returns. I must have a private word with you." Sure enough, now I looked narrowly at her, I recognised the eyes, but the rest of the face was that of an aged woman. "What is the meaning of this mummery, Bess?" I asked. "Have you forgotten what I told you? It is dangerous for me to be seen speaking to you," she replied. "No; but I can't for the life of me understand the danger," said I. "Certainly you can't; but that does not alter the fact," answered she, in a tone rather scornful of my sagacity, I thought. Luke came toward us with the cordial at this point, and I bade him leave us awhile, as the poor body had something to tell me of her affairs. He withdrew out of earshot, but remained within sight of us.