"To be done? Why, those fellows must be let lie where they are—no use trying to stir them. We must get him above-stairs ourselves. By Jove, Boyd, I'm glad of your strong-room, with a vengeance! Look at those two; look at Roxley—and," he added, with a laugh, "look at me! Strong-room be praised! I am too tired to play watchman, and I seem to be the only one fit—were it my place—which it certainly is not! But—by the sword of Claverhouse!—somebody ought to have an open ear to what goes on inside or outside this house, between now and morning. A surprise might be undertaken by the Jacobite farmers hereabouts. What's that? You can ask one of your hinds to mount guard upstairs with Roxley?"
Boyd reiterated his proposal. "H'm—I don't know. Yet why not? Yes, let it be so. If I should have to report such a thing, I would have to be mum about Roxley's status. Here, pray lend a hand. Be lively, Roxley. Up, you varlet!"
The prisoner struggled sullenly to his feet. Boyd dared not yet speak to him. Roxley was close on the other side. But his eyes met the captive's with a meaning look. Just as they came to the stairs Roxley stumbled. Jermain leaned to his aid. It was Boyd's opportunity, albeit one of seconds only.
"The sentinel is a friend," he whispered—"he will speak with you. Expect him."
There was time for no more; but he felt the man's hobbled foot pressed upon his own. He had been understood, at least in part. They reached the East Room.
"In with you, sirrah!" said Roxley, urging on their charge with a thrust past the iron-studded door of the cell. He made no resistance while they bound his legs more tightly.
Then came a crucial moment. Jermain pulled the key from the lock. Boyd held in his hand another key of Andrew's searching out, one closely like it. Only a sober and sharp eye would detect imposture. To make the change was a matter of adroitness, but its success involved the discovery of the trick before morning, unless cunning could accomplish a second change. Luckily, Boyd did not have to effect the first one.
"Take the key, Roxley," said Jermain, yawning, "put it in your pocket, and don't open the door, no matter what you hear, without calling me. Boyd has stowed me not far off—I'll show you."
In his heart the derelict young captain was glad to throw any responsibilities of the night upon his favorite's shoulders.
"Dawkin and I lie here?" inquired Roxley, disposing of the key.