"Aye, it may be so with thee; but I am no saint. I am afraid I'm doing very wrong."

"If you thought so," replied the a.s.sistant, gently drawing her down upon his lap, "would you occupy this place; would a smile beautify those intoxicating lips, and would I read paradise in thine eyes?"

Prudence threw her arm round Spikeman's neck, and sunk her face upon his shoulder, as if to evince her tenderness and hide her blushes, but in truth, to conceal a disposition to laugh.

"I wish," she said, presently raising her head, and looking Spikeman bewitchingly in the face, "I knew whether you really mean what you say?"

"Thou art unjust to me, Prudence. Have I not given every possible proof of affection? What hast thou asked that I have withheld? Have I not treated thee as the elect lady of my soul?"

"Nay, there be some things which you refuse to tell me. I am foolish,"

she added, forcing some moisture into her eyes; "but--but--"

"But what, O garden of delights?" asked Spikeman, kissing the hypocritical tears away.

"When you refuse me anything, I think you do not love--love me."

"Ask, and thou wilt be convinced of the contrary."

"I am but a woman," she said, looking at him with a smile so sweet that we almost pardon poor Spikeman his infatuation, "and I feel like dying when I know there is a secret, and cannot get at the bottom of it."

"What secret? I understand thee not."

"If you yourself had not dropped a hint, I had never thought of it; but it was about this Knight they call Sir Christopher Gardiner, whom Governor Winthrop thinks so much of."

"We will cure him of that folly. What foolish thing have I said to this girl?" thought the a.s.sistant. "Prudence," he added, "this is a matter that cannot concern thee. Thou wouldst not have me speak of secrets of State?"

"Said I not right!" exclaimed Prudence, rising, and preparing to leave the room, "that your love was but a pretext? How, I want to know, is a secret of State better than any other? Now, had I given poor Philip half the encouragement which my silly fondness for thee--O, dear!--"

and she put her hands up to her eyes.

"Come," said Spikeman, pursuing and bringing her back, "name not the presumptuous varlet. On one condition I will tell thee, even though it ruin me."

"What may that be?" inquired the girl.

"I have long solicited an interview where we should not be liable to interruption. Grant me that, and I will conceal nothing."

"Thou dost grant nothing without a condition. I do not know," she added, tossing her head, "whether I care anything, after all, about this mystery. I dare say there is nothing in it, and, as you say, it concerns me not."

"Be not angry, sweet Prudence. Ask, and I will answer all thy questions."

"You know, too, how much I would do to pleasure you," sighed Prudence.

"Ah! me, how weak a thing is a woman's heart."

"Then you will not deny me? Know then that letters have arrived from England, charging this knight, or pretended knight, with diverse grave offences."

"And what may they be?" inquired the girl.

"He is complained of as a fugitive from justice," answered Spikeman, who meant to communicate no more information than he was obliged to.

"The sweet, handsome gentleman! I do not believe he ever harmed any one. But what did he?"

"Of that I am not positively informed, not having seen the epistles, they being addressed to private persons."

"Have they anything against Master Miles, too?" asked Prudence.

"I doubt not that he is the worse of the two, if all were known."

"These be dreadful lies about the nicest and properest men in the country," cried Prudence. "And what will be done with them when they come back?"

"That I cannot tell; but be sure we shall find some means of getting rid of them. And now, Prudence--"

"I do not know that I made any promise," she said, archly; "and you have told me very little, after all."

"I have told thee all I know. Keep now equal good faith with me."

"It would be very improper," said the girl, turning away her face, "to invite a man to a secret meeting; but I sometimes wander on the edge of the forest to gather wild flowers, and hear the birds sing, and if you should come thither by accident, at the same time, n.o.body, I suppose, would find fault."

"But when--but when, lovely Prudence? Ah! you comprehend not the longing of my soul."

"That I cannot say now. I am only a servant girl, and must obey the directions of my mistress, which are often very unreasonable, and order not my time."

"Would I were a king, for your sake! But shall it be soon?"

"As soon as may be, and I will let you know the time and place." So saying, she broke away from the enamored Spikeman, and ran to acquaint her young mistress with all that had happened.

The young lady felt seriously alarmed at the communication of her confidante--an alarm increased by the vagueness of the information, as in a dark night the fearful imagination invests with terrors some object, which, in the light of day, proves to be a harmless bush or stump--and the two young women consulted together if any thing could be done to avert the threatened danger. They could think of nothing better than to acquaint Arundel with it, which Prudence took upon herself to do.

"But how," inquired Eveline, "is it to be done?"

"You forget Philip Joy, madam," said Prudence.

"I might have known better than to distrust your wiles and stratagems, you cunning girl," said her mistress; "but have a care of thyself. I sometimes feel much anxiety on thy account--but I forbid this meeting with Master Spikeman."

"An' it be so," answered the waiting-maid, pouting, "you may find some one else, Mistress Eveline, to tell you about the plots of the old dragon, who has us in his claws."

"For shame, thou petulant thing! yet tell me now all thy design."

"You tell me not all your thoughts about Master Miles, and why should I acquaint you with mine about Joe?" said Prudence, bursting into a laugh.

"There is some difference, methinks, between the cases--have thy way though. I have confidence in thee, Prudence, and believe thee as witty as pretty. Thy own goodness and love for the soldier Joy shall stand by thee like guardian angels, to save from harm. Yet like I not this tampering with anything that looks like evil."

The girl knelt down by the side of her mistress, and taking the young lady's hand, laid it on her heart.

"Thou feelest," she said, "how it beats. Dost understand what it says?"

"Methinks it repeats only, Philip, Philip, Philip," said Eveline, smiling.

"Where one fillip belongs to him, a great many belong to thee,"

answered the waiting-maid, affectionately. "It will be time enough to let him have more when I am sure all his are mine."