Little Prue, as she did afterwards tell me, was "all of a twitter" betwixt pride and bashfulness, and it was only with much blushing and stammering that she at length found her voice. "I' fecks, Your High and Great Mightiness, sir," she said at last, "I have been fatting him like a great pullet in the loft of our barn. I did take him for a soldier you would have hanged for thieving." "How chanced it," said the Prince, "that you knew our need of him?" Now this was for Prue a very distressful question, and, since she would not tell the truth, nor could readily think upon a fiction of any appearance, she felt herself in sorry plight, which she made no better by showing very plainly in her face the distress that she felt. Her rescue came quickly from a source whence it was little expected. For her piteous glance of appeal was cast in vain on M. de Rondiniacque, who himself was not a little taken aback by the Prince's question, and then in a very helpless fashion she passed it on to me. And I, all in the dark as I was, strove blindly for the means to come to her aid, when Mr. Bentinck, with a little laugh that was very dry and yet vastly humorous, interfered. "It were best, Your Highness," he said, "to pass that point." The Prince looked upon him for a moment, and seemed to lay the matter aside in his mind for future enlightening. "Well, my pretty maid," said he to Prudence, who now regarded Mr. Bentinck as if she would willingly have kissed his feet, "we owe you some return. How shall we render it?" "What I did, sir," says Prue, "was done for my dear mistress there. If you will but add my debt to her prayers, sir, I shall be overpaid." "That is well said. Even the servants, William," said His Highness, turning to Mr. Bentinck, "in this terrible family are at one with their masters. 'T is a tribe we had best have on our side." And then he went over to the knot of men that stood against the hearth. "Mr. Royston," he said, "this matter shall rest as it stood yesternight, when you left your house. You are free." And then to Philip: "Mr. Drayton, you are an honest foe, from a camp whence I have least reason to expect such. Will you give me a promise to add to that which Mr. Royston holds of you?" "Most willingly, Your Highness," replied Philip, "if I may with honor." "Then I ask you," said His Highness, "to abide six months from this day with your good father. After, do what and go where you will. He is worth the time that will be so spent, sir. To ease your conscience on the Roman side, Sir Priest, I give you leave to effect his conversion"--and here His Highness laughed very drily--"if you prove able. Is it agreed?" "The punishment is not a hard one," answered Philip. "I will observe your conditions. You have my word."