"And that, my lord," says I, "is the mortal cold I've caught from those carpet slippers. I put them on for fear of waking you, sir."
"Bab," says he, in a wooing voice, "was it you who made that promise to the King?"
"Certainly not," says I, in triumph, "for do you suppose that I would have thus amused myself had I done so? I told the Captain I was a rebel from the first."
"Then that confirms all that I have said," says he, "and I have informed the Captain that you count for nothing in this matter, and 'twas I who let the prisoner out."
"Which, under your pardon, you never did," says I, misunderstanding him. "I took the risks and I'll have the glory. 'Twill be published in the Courier that that audacious wretch Bab Gossiter let out a dangerous rebel in the middle of the night, at her father's country seat, by outwitting nimbly a well-known officer of His Majesty. They will put me in a ballad, and sell 'em two a penny in the Strand. Sylvanus Urban will have a full and particular account of me in the Gentleman's Magazine, and for a whole nine days I shall be as variously known as Joan of Arc or wicked Mrs. Molly Cutpurse."
"But 'twill be said," says he, "that Mrs. Rumour hath lied as usual, and that she hath been quite put out of countenance by the fact that the Earl of Longacre, her peerless ladyship's papa, hath confessed in his own person to this treason; that he
