"Don't distress yourself, old boy," said Dick, taking Gore's hand and leading him to the sofa upon which he had been apparently lying until startled by the sound of voices. "Mrs. Moon can be depended upon and I'll speak to Victoria myself. You are safe here."
"Are you sure, Dick?"
"Perfectly sure. And even if you were discovered I could manage to conceal you in the vaults below the castle."
"Are there vaults?" asked the fugitive, who was shivering and pale.
"Yes! The old smugglers used them to store goods and as hiding-places. There is a passage and door communicating with the arm of the sea which runs near the castle, and you could easily escape to foreign parts by means of a boat. Cheer up, old boy," added Dick, clapping his friend on the back, "you're not dead yet."
The poor, hunted young fellow threw his arm schoolboy fashion over Conniston's shoulder. "What a good fellow you are, Dick!" he said. "I fancied you might believe me guilty."
"I'd as soon believe myself guilty, you several kinds of ass."
"And Alice?" asked Bernard, under his breath.
"She believes you innocent, so does Aunt Berengaria and Durham. Yes! and Miss Randolph also. She's a ripping girl that. I wish she wasn't engaged to Beryl, the pig!"
"What does he say?" asked Gore, warming his hand and casting a look over his shoulder.