"You had best try," replied his opponent, "for I shall kill you else." "I will explain the matter," said De Rondiniacque, still patient. "You may do so," Ned replied unmoved, "afterwards--in hell." "I do think, indeed, Ned," I here interrupted, "he did not know me for what I am, but did mistake me for some runagate hussy." "Then for that I will kill him!" said Ned, never turning my way, nor taking his baleful eye from the other's face. "If you would not see it done, go, bid your father come to see it is no murder." And somehow I could not altogether disobey his word; yet I made my passage to the door as slow as foot can go. "And now, sir," my champion continued, "I will show you how in England we do serve him that affronts the daughter of his host." "Sir Michael's daughter!" exclaimed the poor man, so wholly careless of covering himself that Ned's intended attack upon him was perforce again delayed. "I knew her but for a pretty piece that did ride the country as a lad, and that passed yesterday many hours among us. Meeting her now in female attire, I did think----" "For that thought alone I will kill you!" said Ned, and their swords crossed. And so I fled to find my father, having for my lover, indeed, no fear at all, but much for the gentleman who was, when all was said, our guest, and taken, as I thought, rather in a very luckless error than in any wilful offence. Now, as I passed through the lobby of entrance, the great door stood wide to the sweet noontide air of that shining autumn day; and I, glancing forth to see if Sir Michael were abroad and within hail, beheld coming up the avenue a great number of horsemen, their steel harness gleaming in the sun beneath the leafless trees. So I knew the Prince was come, and hastened the more to advise my father of all that was toward. Him I found very soon (though my inquietude did lend great length to the search) in the stable-yard. He was angry in face and words, and vexed at soul, for he had just learned that Philip was gone. He was come to the stable to know what horse had borne his son from the house, and it was therefore upon Christopher Kidd that his wrath now fell. The poor fellow had of this sort in the past twenty hours received more than was by any means earned, and turned upon me the eager countenance of one that looks for succor. "Dear sir," I cried to my father, "His Highness is arrived." "What!" cried he in answer. "Why, then, was I not advised?" "I come to tell you," I replied. "His Highness is not yet dismounted, and with haste you may yet receive him at the door." Now, as we spoke, Christopher had been heavily searching for something in the pocket of his breeches, which found, he hurried after us, as my father with the help of my arm made painful haste to the house.