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Brilliana gave a gracious equality of attention to her companions; showed no keener interest in her new visitor than she had found in the conversation of her old acquaintance, and thus made both men very happily at their ease. Indeed, Halfman was at his best that afternoon, playing the genial, ripe, mellow man of the world to perfection, so that Evander found him a most entertaining board-fellow.
Halfman assisted Sir Blaise to extricate himself from his beribboned doublet, and the two men faced each other in their shirts, Evander's linen fine and plain, like all about him, Sir Blaise's linen fine and ostentatious, like all about him, and reeking of ambergris.
Through the yew portal Halfman came, gravity reigning in his eyes and slaking their wild fire. He saluted Brilliana with the deep reverence he always showed to his fair general. Brilliana turned to her adjutant eagerly: "Master Halfman, Master Halfman," she cried, "how do you measure our rebel?" Halfman's gravity lightened amazingly at the thought of his prisoner.
Blaise shook his aching head. "I am none too fluttered to find my feet," he asserted, ignoring the fact that his rising from the ground to an erect posture was entirely due to the combined efforts of Halfman and Evander, one on each side, and then, when he did get to his feet, he was only able to retain the perpendicular by leaning heavily upon Halfman as a steady prop.
There was bitterness in the thought that she must needs hate him so deeply. It may be that something of the bitterness of the thought asserted itself on Evander's face, and that Halfman misread it thinking he read the prisoner's thoughts clearly. "Do not think," he proceeded, "that you are cabined and cribbed to these walls.
"Then I go with you." Instantly Evander paused. "No, no," he said. Brilliana repeated his words. "Why, when are you or I afraid of danger?" There was a noise of running feet in the garden, and then Thoroughgood sped across the moat and into the room. "Captain Halfman has been shot," he gasped. "Oh, by whom?" Brilliana wailed, her eyes wide with horror. "Is he killed?" Evander asked.
"The King's health, friends, to begin with." All the noises that had died down to allow Halfman a hearing began again with fresh vigor. It was obvious to the most unsophisticated listener that here was the fag end of a feast and the moment for the genial giving of toasts.
"I can handle a pike, my lords, I promise ye," she asserted; and then, turning to Halfman for confirmation, "Can I not, Master Halfman?" Halfman slapped his thigh approvingly and answered to the Cavalier with grave voice and smiling eyes. "Never was pike so handled before, I promise ye." The tone of his voice mimicked Mrs.
He turned on his heel and marched briskly out of the hall. Brilliana looked after him, with the bright smile on her face, till the door of the banqueting-hall closed behind him; then the smile slowly faded from her face. "I would my spirits were as blithe as my speech," she thought, as she went to the table and bent over it, looking at the open map which Halfman had been studying.
There was a note of timidity in her voice, new to Halfman, and he turned in surprise. "Indeed," he said, roundly. "We have been fellow-soldiers," Brilliana went on, still with that curious hesitancy that sat so strangely upon her. "We have shared a siege. I have a secret to tell you." Halfman felt a sudden uncanny warning of danger. "A secret," he repeated, staring at her.
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