cease in my endeavours. Only keep a stout, cheerful heart, child, and I will show you what devotion is. I'll bully or persuade, intrigue or ruffle it, but what I'll save you. I will browbeat the King, my lad, and pass a special law in Parliament, but what you shall escape the Tree. Now here's my hand on that, and mind you do not quiver until the rope is interfering with your breath."
This was braggadocio indeed, and designed maybe to brace my poor spirit up to the high fortitude that was his own. And yet, God knows, my ultimatum was sincere, and the hapless captive took it so to be.
Having thus decided on our future course, the lad suddenly fell again to gravity.
"I suppose you do not know," says he, "that your friend the Captain met his end by murder?"
"Impossible," says I, "it was a duel fought according to the laws; and that I'll swear to, because I witnessed it. And furthermore, the Captain had first shot, and therefore the greater opportunity."
"It was none the less a murder, as I have subsequently learnt," he says, "and I can give you the murderer's name."
"His name is not Anthony Dare, I know," I answered stoutly.
"No, her name is my Lady Barbara Gossiter."
"What do you mean?" I demanded with an anger that his brutal plainness had provoked.
"Do you see this little bullet on my palm?" says he.
