"I know not the nature of thine allusions, nor care I to bandy weapons with such an adversary." "Hark ye, lady! it was to solder down as pretty a piece of roguery as one would wish to leave to one's heirs that Theophilus Ashton, thine uncle, thy mother's brother, now deceased, went to London when he had builded this house." "Roguery!--mine uncle Ashton! Darest thou?"---- "Ay, the same. The spoils of my patrimony built this goodly dwelling, and the battle of Marston Moor gave thy brother wherewith to buy the remainder of the inheritance. I was made a beggar by my loyalty, he a rich man by his treason." "What means this foul charge?" said Alice, astounded by the audacity of this accusation. "But fear not. Had it not been for thee and another--whose well-being is bound up in thine own--long ago would this goodly heritage have been spoiled; for--revenge is sweeter even than possession; so good-morrow, Mistress Alice." "What, then, is thy business with me?" "Wentest thou not from the masque with thy pretty love-billet behind thy stomacher?" "Insolent vagrant, this folly shall not go unpunished!" "Hold, wench! provoke not an"----he paused for one second, but in that brief space there came a change over his spirit, which in a moment was subdued as though by some over-mastering effort--"an impotent old man." His voice softened, and there was a touch even of pathos in the expression. "To-night--fail not--I, ay even _I_, will protect thee. Fear not; thy welfare hangs on that issue!"