It was three days after Sedgemoor Fight, and poor Ruth was worn and exhausted with her grief--believing Wilding dead, for he had sent no message to inform her of his almost miraculous preservation. The thing he went to do in London was fraught with such peril that he foresaw but the slenderest chance of escaping with his life. Therefore, he had argued, why console her now with news that he lived, when in a few days the headsman might prove that his end had been but postponed? To do so might be to give her cause to mourn him twice. Again he was haunted by the thought that, in spite of all, it may have been pity that had so grievously moved her at their last meeting. Better, then, to wait; better for both their sakes. If he came safely through his ordeal it would be time enough to bear her news of his preservation.
In deepest mourning, very white, with dark stains beneath her eyes to tell the tale of anguished vigils, she received Sir Rowland in the withdrawing-room, her brother at her side. To his expressions of deep penitence he found them cold; so he passed on to show them what disastrous results might ensue upon a stubborn maintaining of this attitude of theirs towards him.
"I have come," he said, his eyes downcast, his face long-drawn, for he could play the sorrowful with any hypocrite in England, "to do something more than speak of my grief and regret. I have come to offer proof of it by service.
"We ask no service of you, sir," said Ruth, her voice a sword of sharpness.
He sighed, and turned to Richard. "This were folly," he assured his whilom friend. "You know the influence I wield."
"Do I?" quoth Richard, his tone implying doubt. "You think that the bungled matter at Newlington's may have shaken it?" quoth Blake. "With Feversham, perhaps. But Albemarle, remember, trusts me very fully. There are ugly happenings in the town here. Men are being hung like linen on a washing-day. Be not too sure that yourself are free from all danger." Richard paled under the baronet's baleful, half-sneering glance. "Be not in too great haste to cast me aside, for you may find me useful."
"Do you threaten, sir?" cried Ruth.
"Threaten?" quoth he. He turned up his eyes and showed the whites of them. "Is it to threaten to promise you my protection; to show you how I can serve you?--than which I ask no sweeter boon of heaven. A word from me, and Richard need fear nothing."
"He need fear nothing without that word," said Ruth disdainfully. "Such service as he did Lord Feversham the other night..."