"I came between that door and its curtain," she replied, "in the same moment that Sir Michael did ask the Prince the reason of his churlishness. So it was not long before I heard good Mr. Royston tell how he did use the sword for Sir Michael's daughter. And I were a ninnyhammer indeed, if I could not from that tell the rest of the tale. Therefore, I say again, that 't is all your fault, ill man that you are!" "It is mine, indeed," said De Rondiniacque sadly. Then did Prudence pull a very long and solemn face. "Do you repent of your sins?" she asked. "Most heartily I do," he answered. "And would you atone?" she continued. "Most gladly--but how?" he asked. "Will you leave kissing forever," she demanded with great severity, "if I do put you in the way to make amends?" "Ay, that, and more!" he cried, in reckless penitence, "do but show me the way." "Nay, softly," she answered. "'T will take three at least, and one of them a woman of a very pretty wit, even if I be not mistaken, to undo the mischief one witless man can work with this same foolish kissing." "Have done with your gibes!" said De Rondiniacque angrily. "I would not kiss you again if you asked it." For which discourtesy Mistress Prue deferred her revenge, thinking, as she has told me, that it was but his sorrow and zeal of penitence made the gentleman speak so unmannerly. "Hark then to me," she said. "As I stood there by the door, where I could hear all and see not a little, after that the Prince had said they would walk a turn in the garden, and while they were taking away poor Mr. Royston a prisoner, the sour-faced man in black drew the Prince aside so that they almost touched the curtain that hid me. And there for a little space they stood, talking soft and low. What is he--the surly one, I mean, that had the papers?" "That is Mr. Bentinck," replied De Rondiniacque, with some impatience. "Well, what said they?" "The Prince was minded that Sir Michael spoke truth, but the man in black that they must use all means to lay hands on the priest; he said, too, that in his letter was a paper with every mark of this priest's person, so as it might be his very portrait cunningly painted; and he said that he cared not a groat for Sir Michael, nor for poor Mr. Royston, so he might come at the priest. They are mightily in love with this priest, Mr. Mar-all, and I do think----" "Did you hear his description?" interrupted De Rondiniacque. "Did Bentinck read it to the Prince?"