“Nat,” she said, in a low voice, “thou hast not forgotten thy promise made to me?”

“My mistress, I have not forgotten.”

“And thou wilt keep thy word?”

“I will keep it.”

He spoke with manifest effort; but Joan heaved a sigh of relief.  She came one step nearer, and laid her soft hand upon the old servant’s shoulder, looking into his face with affectionate solicitude.

“I know not if I should ask it of thee; it may cost thee thy life.”

“My life is naught, if I can but save thee from that monster, sweet mistress; but oh, if it might be by another way!”

“Nay, say not so; methinks now this is the best, the sweetest way.  I shall the sooner find him, who will surely be waiting for me upon the farther shore.  One blow, and I shall be free for ever.  O Nat, this world is a sore place for helpless women to dwell in.  Since he has gone, what is there for me to live for?  I almost long for the hour which shall set my spirit free.  They will let me see the Holy Father, who comes to wed us.  I shall receive the Absolution and the Blessing; and methinks I am not unprepared.  Death has no terrors for me:  I have seen him come so oft in the guise of a friend.  Nay, weep not, good Nat; the day will come when we all must die.  Thou wouldst rather see me lying dead at thy feet than the helpless captive of the Sanghurst, as else I must surely be?”

“Ay, lady,” answered the old man, between his shut teeth, “ten thousand times rather, else would not this fond hand strike the blow that will lay thy fair young head in the dust.  But sooner than know thee the wife of yon vile miscreant, I would slay thee ten times over.  Death is soon past —­ death comes but once; but a life of helpless misery and agony, that I could not bear for thee.  Let them do what they will to me, I will set thee free first.”

Joan raised the strong, wrinkled hand to her lips and kissed it, before the old retainer well knew what she was doing.  He withdrew it in some confusion.

“Good Nat, I know not how to thank thee; but what I can do to save thee I will.  I do not think my father will suffer thee to be harmed if when I am dead thou wilt give him this packet I now give to thee.  In it I have told him many things he would not listen to whilst I lived, but he will read the words that have been penned by a hand that is cold and stiff in death.  To his old love for me I have appealed to stand thy friend, telling him how and why the deed has been done, and thy hand raised against me.  I think he will protect and pardon thee —­ I think it truly.

“How now, Nat?  What seest thou?  What hearest thou?  Thy thoughts are not with me and with my words.  What is it?  Why gazest thou thus from the casement?  What is there to see?”

“Armed men, my mistress —­ armed men riding towards Basildene!” answered the old man, in visible excitement.  “I have seen the sunlight glinting on their headpieces.  I am certain sure there be soldiers riding to this very door.  What is their business?  How have they come?  Ah, lady, my sweet mistress, pray Heaven they have come to set thee free!  Pray Heaven they have come as our deliverers!”