"No! not the whole night," replied Marguerite. "At any rate,
I shall not want any room but this, if I can have it to myself for an
hour or two."
"It is at your ladyship's service," said honest Jellyband,
whose rubicund face was set in its tightest folds, lest it should
betray before "the quality" that boundless astonishment which the very
worthy fellow had begun to feel.
"I shall be crossing over at the first turn of the tide," said
Marguerite, "and in the first schooner I can get. But my coachman and
men will stay the night, and probably several days longer, so I hope
you will make them comfortable."
"Yes, my lady; I'll look after them. Shall Sally bring your
ladyship some supper?"
"Yes, please. Put something cold on the table, and as soon as
Sir Andrew Ffoulkes comes, show him in here."
"Yes, my lady."
Honest Jellyband's face now expressed distress in spite of
himself. He had great regard for Sir Percy Blakeney, and did not like
to see his lady running away with young Sir Andrew. Of course, it was
no business of his, and Mr. Jellyband was no gossip. Still, in his
heart, he recollected that her ladyship was after all only one of them
"furriners"; what wonder that she was immoral like the rest of them?
"Don't sit up, honest Jellyband," continued Marguerite kindly,
"nor you either, Mistress Sally.
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