Dawkin made for the chimney-jamb, exclaiming: "Come, I'll draw back the Prodigal from his husks!"
Before he could reach it, Gilbert, desperate, careless of any further pacific measures, seeing in mind nothing but imminent bloodshed, leaped between him and the chimney. Indignation had altered the very fashion of his countenance.
"Hear me, sirs, for the last time!" he cried; "by the God of my fathers, who hath preserved me and mine within this house until these hairs are white, not one step further into its secrets or secret chambers shall you take, nor dare any longer to indulge this unsoldierly curiosity and insolence! I mean what I say. No, I will give no reasons except what I have given, what common decency might prompt to you. This impudent business stops at once. Take away your hand, sir! Put down your arm, fellow! Call it over-respect to my family and its trusts, or call it what you may, I swear that I will strike down the man who sets a finger upon this arras! Must I call up my servants to protect us from you?" [Four or five of these last were already waiting wherever a man could lurk in the hall or adjoining rooms, trembling for their master's safety, and only restrained by Neil from running into the Purple Chamber to chastise the insolent troopers.]
Half-intoxicated though he was, this vehement speech and the gestures accompanying it were enough to change the mood of Captain Jermain to irritation. He turned red, gave a short, hard laugh of contempt, and uttered an oath—with which he darted forward to seize the arras. He slipped, laughing triumphantly, beneath Boyd's extended arm. He clutched the tapestry with a violent pull. The rusty nails above yielded. Down fell the Prodigal and his Swine, partly overturning both disputants. A cloud of dust rose; and, as it cleared away, a cry of surprise broke from the lips of all the group. There, exposed to full sight, rose the broad crack! The panel was unmistakable, because partially open! "O Almighty Protector!" thought Gilbert, a thrill of hope entering his heart, "he overheard—he had time to escape from it."
"Yes, he has escaped—he has escaped!" ejaculated Andrew to himself; "not yet in their power, not yet!"
"Open?" cried Jermain. "Yes, by the sword of Claverhouse, it is open! The easier for us to take our look at it, but a bad sign for its safety as a prison to-night. Let's see—will the doorway widen if we push at the old panel."
There was no sound from the cell. Captain Jermain approached the opening. Boyd could make no further resistance—he wondered whether he might not have undone the success of some defence on his guest's part, as it was; for as Roxley and Dawkin stepped toward the wall Gilbert gave a sigh of exhaustion, and then sank back upon an arm-chair in a half-faint.
Mistress Annan darted into the room unobtrusively, but looking like an elderly Scotch ghost in cap and spectacles, and began chafing her master's cold hands. Andrew would see it out to the end. "If he be there, and if they seize him, I will strike one of them down for him," thought the lad. The end, the end was at hand—life or death in it!
"Works like a charm!" cried Jermain, now quite forgetting his fit of passion in the indulgence of curiosity. "There, we can pass! Ugh! What a stinking hole!" The lever, to outside persuasion, offered no reluctance to move. The door, truly, was wide open. Blackness of darkness—a rush of chill, malodorous wind. But no outrushing or defiant figure!
"Give me one candle, boy," said Jermain—"hold the other before us. So. Watch well your feet, lads. These odd nooks often have holes and traps in their floors." With these words he stepped inside the Nest.