“Not that I was in any real peril, my fair young Sir,” she continued, “though I feigned to be so, for I have powerful protectors, as you perceive; and indeed this was all a preconcerted scheme between my Lord Roos and his noble friends to turn the tables on the two extortioners.  But that does not lessen my gratitude to you; and I shall try to prove it.  You are in more danger than, perchance, you wot of; and I feel quite sure Sir Giles means to carry his threat into execution, and to cause your arrest.”

Seeing him smile disdainfully, as if he had no apprehensions, she added, somewhat quickly—­“What will your bravery avail against so many, mon beau gentilhomme?  Mon Dieu! nothing.  No! no!  I must get you assistance.  Luckily I have some friends at hand, the ’prentices—­grands et forts gaillards, avec des estocs;—­Cyprien has told me they are here.  Most certainly they will take your part.  So, Sir Giles shall not carry you off, after all.”

Jocelyn’s lips again curled with the same disdainful smile as before.

“Ah I vous etes trop temeraire!" Madame Bonaventure cried, tapping his arm.  “Sit down here for awhile.  I will give you the signal when you may depart with safety.  Do not attempt to stir till then.  You understand?”

Jocelyn did not understand very clearly; but without making any observation to the contrary, he took the seat pointed out to him.  The position was well-chosen, inasmuch as it enabled him to command the movements of the foe, and offered him a retreat through a side-door, close at hand; though he was naturally quite ignorant whither the outlet might conduct him.

While this was passing, Sir Giles was engaged in giving directions respecting his partner, whose inebriate condition greatly scandalized him; and it was in pursuance of his orders that Sir Francis was transported to the wharf where the misadventure before related befel him.  Never for a moment did Sir Giles’ watchful eye quit Jocelyn, upon whom he was ready to pounce like a tiger, if the young man made any movement to depart; and he only waited till the tavern should be clear of company to effect the seizure.

Meanwhile another person approached the young man.  This was the friendly stranger in the furred gown and flat cap, who had sat next him at dinner, and who, it appeared, was not willing to abandon him in his difficulties.  Addressing him with much kindness, the worthy personage informed him that he was a bookseller, named John Wolfe, and carried on business at the sign of the Bible and Crown in Paul’s Churchyard, where he should be glad to see the young man, whenever he was free to call upon him.