"Indeed?" said Miles gravely. "How so?"
Jack controlled an insane desire to laugh, and listened to the gaoler's complaint.
"You see the pris'ner, sir, with that great mask on 'is face? Afore we set out to come 'ere, I told 'im to take it hoff. And 'e refoosed, sir. Seeing as 'ow you gave no horders, I did not force 'im to hobey."
"Ah! . . . Your name, please?"
"John Smith, sir," answered Carstares promptly and hoarsely.
O'Hara wrote it down with a sceptical smile on his lips that Jack did not quite like.
"Perhaps ye will have the goodness to unmask?"
There was a momentary silence.
"Why, sir, I thought ye might allow me to keep it on?"
"Did ye now? I will not be allowing any such thing."
"But, sir-"
"'Tis impossible. Off with it!"
"Sir-"
"If ye don't take it off, I shall ask these men to assist ye," warned Miles.
"May I not speak with ye alone, sir?" pleaded Jack.
By now O'Hara was greatly intrigued.
"Ye may not. Unmask!" He was leaning half across the table, his eyes fixed on Jack's face.
With a quaint little laugh that made O'Hara's brows contract swiftly, my lord shrugged his shoulders French fashion and obeyed. The mask and hat were tossed lightly on to the table, and Miles found himself gazing into a pair of blue eyes that met his half defiantly, half imploringly. He drew in his breath sharply and the thin ivory rule he held snapped suddenly between his fingers. And at that crucial moment a door behind him that had stood ajar was pushed open, and my Lady O'Hara came tripping into the room.
The two gaolers and her husband turned at once to see who it was, while Jack, who had recognised her, but had not the least idea who she was, fell to dusting his boots with his handkerchief.
O'Hara rose, and for once looked severe.
"What-" he began, and stopped, for without so much as a glance at him, my lady ran towards the prisoner, crying: "Harry! Oh, Harry!"
Jack gathered that he was the person addressed, and instantly made her an elaborate leg.
The next moment she was tugging at the lapels of his coat, with her face upturned to his.
"Harry, you WICKED boy!" she cried, and added beneath her breath: "My name is Molly!"
A laugh sprang to my lord's eyes and his beautiful smile appeared.
In a stupefied fashion O'Hara watched him steal an arm about her waist, and place a hand beneath her chin. The next instant a kiss was planted full on the little lady's lips, and he heard Jack Carstares' voice exclaim: "Fie on you, Molly, for a spoil-sport! Here had I fooled Miles to the top of my bent-and 'pon rep.! he scarce knows me yet!"