Softly though the young knight had spoken, at the first sound of his voice the youth leapt wild-eyed to his feet. Without uttering a word, and with hands outspread before his face, he moved slowly backward against the wall.
"I pray you, be not afraid, good my youth," said Sir Richard reassuringly. "I can show you now a manner of gaining freedom from your unhappy imprisonment. A way of winning back to your abandoned home. Come, permit me to be your friend. Let hope smooth away the wrinkles from your brow and suffuse your countenance with somewhat of joy. Escape is at hand."
"But what would she say?" the youth whispered, looking in a frightened manner toward the door.
"She shall not know," Sir Richard promised.
"Aye—but thou canst keep nothing from her. Nothing! Even she can read the heavens, and divine the inner workings of a mind. The stars whisper to her their dark secrets—the stars!"
"Nay, prate not thus. I tell you the way is open. This very night you may be free."
"But I—I cannot leave her, sir knight. I love her. Pity me, ... but leave me. And how didst thou come here?" the youth suddenly added. "Saving Lady Anna and the serving-men, thou art the very first to enter within these rooms."
Upon gaining the youth's promise to observe an inviolate secrecy, Sir Richard explained the manner of his coming. When he had made everything clear, the boy took his arm and led him beside a desk upon which were scattered many papers.
"Knowest thou what these are, sir knight?" the youth inquired. "They are messages to my simple home; messages to my sweet mother; messages full of endearing terms and deep regrets; messages signed with mine own true and once honest name, Perkin Warbeck; messages which I dare never send, but write and read; and read again, gaining a sort of comfort from the double task. Why must I forswear my good name, sir knight? I know not. Why am I here? I know not—what shall become of me; I care not. I am but a shadow encompassed by flitting shades—a phantom in the midst of phantoms, moving in a fog of mystery. Of all, there is but the one thing potent—my love for Lady Anna. And yet—and yet, sir knight, I fear her. I must remain! Go! Leave me, I entreat of thee, for, by thus tarrying, thou art but fruitlessly imperiling thy life."
Earnestly though Sir Richard tried, he was unable to shake the youth's determination to remain. With much of pity in his heart, the young knight then took leave of him, retraced his way back through the secret door and went below. Desiring to take advantage of Lady Anna's temporary retirement, he secured the final cutting of rope, stole again into the hall of the griffins' heads, and made everything ready for de Claverlok's escape and his own, which he meant should be brought off that night.