"So be it, my lord," he said; "your blood be upon your own head; and yet, good sooth, I know not what else to attempt. Danforth! Danforth! The name makes me tremble for you. I will go and await the fittest moment to proffer your services to Jermain, and, if he accept it, I will do my best to apprise the prisoner that something is in store for him. Andrew, my son, this is no hour for you to be awake. You aid us at your own cost. Go you to your bed when you have helped my lord into yonder frieze-coat and leather breeches."
"If I do go I shall not shut my eyes; I shall but lie there and suffer death each moment," cried the boy pleadingly. "No, let me stay near my lord until all these new dangers are over. Ah, how can I sleep until he and you sleep?"
Gilbert had not the heart to command.
"Well, well, be it as you will; but keep above-stairs," returned his father. "God knows the end of this night's business. Pray each moment for us all. Hark! I hear Roxley singing and the rest shouting. How vile, how vile a crew to be harbored in this honest abode! What goodly lessons for thy youth to be taught!"
Gilbert had been absent quite a considerable period this time, although the fact aroused no interest in the dissolute trio he would willingly have driven from his threshold. He saw at once, as he entered the dining-parlor, that a change had taken place. Good Scotch whiskey had done disgusting work. Roxley had ceased singing and telling anecdotes and lounged with one arm on the table, supporting his drowsy head, which lolled back stupidly. Dawkin was sprawled half-across the board, his hand clutching an empty bottle. Jermain was arguing some point of military etiquette in an aimless fashion and without waiting for replies from Roxley. The young captain's gallant bearing was gone: his eyes were dull and bloodshot, his dignity and vigilance vanished, and his whole appearance that of a half-intoxicated and quite commonplace young soldier.
"At this rate," thought Boyd, "your fine Surrey friends will not know you when you go back southward. The king's army is an ill school indeed, for you young men!"
"Well, Boyd—do your clocks—sing bedtime for all honest people," he inquired, sluggishly; "your face betokens your thinking that it is an hour when all men and most brutes should be asleep—and under either name I am ready enough to stretch myself. Halloa there, Dawkin! wake up, man, and go out to the kitchen and tell Saville and Tracey to fetch that rascal hither. I must see him securely bound before we fasten him into that strong-room upstairs, that Boyd talks about. Pity the secret chamber is of no use. Boyd, I'll go up with you now and inspect this other place at once."
Dawkin stirred, looked vacantly at his superior, and burlesqued a salute with his hand and the bottle. He rose staggeringly, but fell back in his chair, apologetically murmuring something.
"The man is drunk!" commented Jermain, angrily, relinquishing his grasp of him. "Roxley—no, wait here until I come back."
He took Gilbert's arm. The latter led him up through the second-story hall again.