“Blushes are not always for shame—­’tis for love, sometimes.  Kate, ’tis time I knew thy heart, for thou knowest I am about to die for love of thee.  Dost not understand that thy father wished thee to marry at an early age and to marry the son of his bosom friend to whom he gave his daughter’s keeping?”

“Nay, he said naught of my marriage with thee, as he knew not thou wert in existence.”

“Aye, of a truth he hath done so; it is here next my heart,” and he drew forth Sir John’s letter.  “Wilt read but the lines I show thee; for there are secrets belonging to thy father and me alone?” He marked the lines with his jewelled finger, his love locks falling against her cheek as she read:  “My last wish and the one of greatest import to my child is that thou find for her a spouse of rank and fortune.  ’Tis my desire she marry early to such an one.—­Ah!  Cedric, if thou had hadst a son, their union would have been our delight—­”

“Ah! ah!” and Katherine’s eyes grew wide.  “Thou hast said naught of this—­as it appears here before me now; and it might have been too late.”

“Too late!  What meanest thou?”

“The noble—­nay, now I cannot tell thee, for ’tis a secret but half mine.”

“My God! who dares have secrets with thee save thy nurse and guardian; whose damned heart hath played the lover to thee?” His hand fell upon his sword and he drew it half way.  “What guest hath so dishonoured name as to make profit of that I have already made known as my espoused?  Tell me, Kate!” Seeing her frightened eyes, that were justly so, he pushed back the jewelled hilt and threw his arm about her and drew her close, so close she was well-nigh crushed by his warm and passionate embrace and choked by pulverulent civet as her face was pressed against the folds of his steenkirk.  She felt the tumultuous beating of his heart, and ’twas a great, new feeling came to her and she trembled and swayed, and loved and hated both, in one brief moment and drew from him and looked with angry eyes.  “Kate, Kate, what saidst the false lover; tell me every word.  Did he ask thee for espousal?” Now Mistress Penwick faltered and flushed, for she dare not tell him who her suitor was and thought if she told him well what was said, he would not press her for name, and ’twas meet she should tell him truthfully.  She feared his hot temper not a little, for she had heard that one time he locked Lady Constance in the tower for two whole days for telling him a falsehood.

“Aye, he asked me to espouse him.”

“And what didst thou say?”

“I said him nay, ’twas too soon to wed, ’twould be wiser to speak a year hence.”

“And what answer did he make thee?”

“He said the king’s sister, Princess Mary, when but ten married William, Prince of Orange, and—­”

“And what?” said Cedric, leaning forward his hand upon his sword, a curse between his white teeth and a line of light from between his half-closed lids like the flashing of a two-edged sword.  “What—­’sdeath?” And Kate trembled forth—­