Sir Edgar pressed her hand. “Such love as thine, dear,” he said, “more oft visits the prison than the palace; and, faith, it makes this cold cell, with its walls of stone, brighter than a court.”
“And we may see fairer days yet,” rejoined Evaline. “Master Gilbert tells me they must put thee on thy trial shortly.”
“I would I could see Gilbert!” remarked Sir Edgar. “Think’st thou, thy new friend, Master Gray, can compass such a thing?”
“I will speak to him on’t,” answered Evaline. “An’ his means equal his good will, he will do it.”
Sir Edgar was about to reply, when, while the words were yet on his lips, he heard the fastenings of the cell-door drawn back, and he paused. As he did so, the door was thrown open; and two persons, one of whom he recognised as the Governor of the gaol, entered the cell.
“Thou hast given us but a short time, Sir,” said Sir Edgar, supposing he had come to part him from Evaline. “Howbeit, my daughter will speedily be ready.”
“When she is ready, Sir,” answered the Governor, with a smile, “thou mayst bear her company.”
“How mean’st thou?” asked Sir Edgar, in amaze.
The Governor, without saying a word, but still smiling, stepped a pace or two nearer, and presented him with a folded paper. He seized it eagerly, and, with a trembling hand, drew it open:—it was an order from Sir Francis Walsingham, the Secretary of State, directing him to be set at liberty.