I look well in this fine dress of yours, and I mean to wear it out.
Now begone--begone, before some of them come to seek me.

Don't you grieve for me; I'll lie in the bed that I have made, and if the worst comes to the worst, I have money in my pocket--or its worth--and we will meet again in England.

Come, give my love and duty to Master Peter and your father, and if I should see them no more, bid them think kindly of Betty Dene, who was such a plague to them." Then, taking Margaret in her strong arms, she kissed her again and again, and fairly thrust her from the room.
But when they were gone, poor Betty sat down and cried a little, till she remembered that hot tears might melt the paint upon her face, and, drying them, went to the window and watched.
A while later, from her lofty niche, she saw six Moorish horsemen riding along the white road to the embattled gate.

After them came two men and a woman, all splendidly mounted, also dressed as Moors, and then six other horsemen.

They passed the gate which was opened for them and began to mount the slope beyond.