Then turning to the curious, anxious, and expectant waiting-maid he whispered:
“Tabitha, my good girl, I can depend upon you to aid me in freeing your young lady?”
“Depend upon me? Oh, sir, don’t you know and doesn’t she know that I would throw myself between her and all that threatens her, and meet it in her stead, if so be I could?” said the brave and devoted girl, in a vehement whisper.
“Indeed it will be but little less than that which will be required of you, my good Tabitha.”
“Don’t doubt me, sir, but try me!” said the young woman, stoutly.
“Well, then, Tabitha, you have first to prepare your young lady for a hasty journey—thanks to the secret passage leading from the abbot’s apartments—to the ruins of the neighboring nunnery, which scandal declares to have been once put to a less worthy use. I have been able to provide the means for her escape. But you, my good girl, will have to remain here to cover her retreat, to face those who will come to seek her in the morning, and to withstand all questions as to how or with whom she left her prison. Are you firm enough for the duty, Tabitha?”
“Let ’em try me, that’s all, sir; and if they don’t find out as they’re met their match this time, I’m not a woman, but a muff. They may send me to prison, or they may hang me if they like. But I defy them to make me speak when I don’t want to speak!”
“They can do you no real harm, my girl, be sure of that. They would only threaten and frighten you at most.”
“Frighten who? Lawks, sir, you don’t know me; I aint made of frightenable stuff. But, sir, how we talk! won’t they know at once that my young lady got off through that secret passage of which you speak?”
“No; for its very existence is unknown or forgotten. It was only accident that discovered it to me some years ago, when I was delving among the ruins of the convent, and found in one of the cellars its other terminus. I entered it to thread its mazes; I should have been smothered but for the many crooked crevices in its rocky roof that let in the air. I found that it led to a steep narrow staircase; ascending it, I found myself opposite a panel, the character of which I could see by means of the narrow lines of light around its old and shrunken frame, light that evidently came from the opposite side. Curiosity got the better of discretion, and I worked away at the panel and slipped it aside, when, to my dismay, I found myself looking in upon the privacy of Lady Leaton’s sleeping-chamber, which was fortunately then empty. It was this, which was in the olden time the apartment of the Abbot. I was but a boy then, and being frightened at what I had done, I hastily replaced the panel and retreated, and never mentioned my adventure to any one. Afterwards, consulting the guidebook, I found that there was a mere tradition of a secret passage leading from the Abbey to the Convent, which scandal asserted to have been used by the master here when going to rendezvous with some fair nun; but of the precise locality of this secret passage, or even of its actual existence, the book did not pretend to speak with authority. Once I mentioned the tradition to my uncle and aunt, but they disregarded it as mere romance, and I kept my own counsel, and deferred the mention of my discovery to some future occasion. But to-night I have turned my knowledge of the secret passage to some account; to-night, once more I have threaded its mazes, and find myself in this chamber. I shall conduct Miss Leaton through this passage to the other outlet in the cellars of the ruined convent; there I have a chaise to carry her off. Farther than this, I need not tell you. And I have told you this much, first, because I believe you fully worthy of the confidence, and secondly, that being possessed of the real facts, you may be on your guard against cross-questioning as well as against threats, and so be able to baffle inquiry as well as to withstand browbeating,” said Malcolm Montrose.