she declared.

I went to the door and looked out. “It is a wild night,” I said. “I can suit it with as wild an enterprise. Make a bundle of your warmest clothing, madam, and wrap your mantle about you. Will you take Angela?”

“No,” she answered. “I will not have her peril too upon me.”

As she stood there, her hand no longer upon the dagger, the large tears welled into her eyes and fell slowly over her white cheeks. “It is for mine honor, sir,” she said. “I know that I ask your death.”

I could not bear to see her weep, and so I spoke roughly. “I have told you before,” I said, “that your honor is my honor. Do you think I would sleep to-morrow night, in the hold of the Santa Teresa, knowing that my wife supped with my Lord Carnal?”