'I never esteemed her much, said Nan. 'She was a poor little white,
spiritless thing, with a skin that they called ivory, and great brown
eyes that looked at one like that young fawn with the broken leg. If
I had been Eustace, I would have had some one with a little more will
of her own, and then he would not have been served as he was.' For
the next thing that was heard of her, and that by a mere chance, was
that she was marred to Mynheer van Hunker, 'a rascallion of an old
half-bred Dutchman,' as my hot-tongued sister called him, who had
come over to fatten on our misfortunes by buying up the cavaliers'
plate and jewels, and lending them money on their estates. He was of
noble birth, too, if a Dutchman could be, and he had an English
mother, so he pretended to be doing people a favour while he was
filling his own coffers; and, worst of all, it was he who had bought
the chaplet of pearls, the King's gift to the bravest of knights.
The tidings were heard in the midst of war and confusion, and so far
as Nan knew, Eustace had made no moan; but some months later, when he
was seeking a friend among the slain at Cropredy Bridge, he came upon
Sir James Wardour mortally wounded, to whom he gave some drink, and
all the succour that was possible. The dying man looked up and said:
'Mr. Rib'mont, I think. Ah! sir, you were scurvily used. My lady
would have her way. My love to my poor wench; I wish she were in
your keeping, but---' Then he gave some message for them both, and,
with wandering senses, pained Eustace intensely by forgetting that he
was not indeed Millicent's husband, and talking to him as such,
giving the last greeting; and so he died in my brother's arms.
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