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"Master Puritan, Master Puritan," she murmured, "I must tie a knot in my handkerchief to remind me that you and I are enemies." At the dinner-hour Halfman came for Evander, where he sat in the library, and told him that Lady Brilliana awaited him.
As the Parliament man moved away across the grass, his image very dark against its green, Brilliana looked after him, nursing her chin in her palm and her elbow on her knee. As he entered the house with the big book under his arm she took out her pretty handkerchief, and with much deliberation tied a small knot in one corner of it.
There was much to do and little time to do it in, for any hour might bring news that the enemy was near at hand. Brilliana, as he told her and as she knew, would have done well without him, once she had warning of danger, but, as she told him and as he knew, she did very much better with him.
Brilliana struck her palms sharply together with the air of one who has solved a difficult problem. "Your Mr. Cromwell has taken prisoner a cousin of mine whom he threatens to kill as a spy. We will exchange you against Mr. Cromwell's prisoner." Evander looked steadily back at her with a hint of mild amusement at the corners of his mouth.
Brilliana struck her hand angrily upon the table once and again. "For God's sake do not praise me!" she almost screamed, "or I shall hate myself. Your errand, your errand, your errand!" The enemy was provokingly imperturbable. "You have a high spirit," he said, "that must compel admiration from all. That is why I would persuade you to wisdom.
"You shall see me ring him, you shall see me bait him, if you will but leave us." "How shall I see if I leave?" Brilliana asked, provokingly. "But 'tis no matter." As she spoke she thought of Halfman, and a merry scheme danced in her head. "Gentles, I must leave you," she cried, with a pretty little reverence that included both men.
Brilliana denied him affably. "By-and-by, maybe, as the prize of your triumph. Farewell." After sundry strange scrapings, Master Hungerford took his departure in the direction of the stables. As soon as his back was turned, Brilliana questioned her maid. "Well, Tiffany, is it Master Rainham?" "Ay, my lady," Tiffany answered, demurely.
Brilliana was outblushing all things red peony, poppy, flamingo, anything. "You have always loved me, Hobbin?" she asked, half timorously. "I have always loved you," he answered, slowly, with a rigid face. "Then you will be glad of what I have to tell," she said. "There will be no change here.
Since then the Lady Brilliana had reigned alone at Harby, indifferent to suitors, and had flown the King's flag at the first point of war. "By Heaven!" said Halfman, "I will have a look at the Lady Brilliana." As he tramped the muddy hill-road his mind was busy.
She was followed by her serving-woman, Tiffany, a merry girl that Thoroughgood adored, and one that would in days gone over have been likely to tickle the easy whimsies of Halfman. Now he had no eyes, no thoughts, save for her mistress, the lass unparalleled. Brilliana was speaking to Tiffany even as she entered the gallery.
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