So, jumping off the sorrel, and
giving him in charge to one of my men, I started for the little cottage. I
was turning the corner out of the square when some one, running lightly
behind me, placed a hand on my arm and detained me. It was Margaret.
"You've no need to trouble, Oliver," she said. "I've kept a room for you
at the 'Angel.'"
"Thank you," I replied. "You are very kind, madam."
"Poof! Come along! You're so tired that you can hardly keep your eyes
open to look at me. Come along, sir!" She was merrily pulling at my arm as
she spoke. "I don't want to be obliged to return you every service, you
know, sir!"
"No, madam! Certainly not."
"No, indeed, sir! I'm not going to put you to bed, except as the very
last resource."
"Fortunately, madam, I'm a long way from needing that. In a few minutes I
shall gladly take advantage of your care for me. First, however, I must
see to our old friend to whom the Prince gave the brooch."
"We'll go together!" said Margaret, putting her arm in mine.
The cottage was dark and silent, welcome proof that she was undisturbed.
I knocked gently, and, after a short delay, the door opened, and her woman
appeared, candle in hand.
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