"Whatever it is that any man on earth accuses me of," replied the young knight, without attending to Sir John Grey's last words, "I am ready ever to meet boldly, for my heart is free. As you will not give me this relief I ask even now, it cannot be too soon. I will either go with you at once to your own house--"
"No, that must not be," cried the other, hastily.
"Or else," continued Woodville, "I will meet you two hours hence, in the hostel called the Garland, on the market place. What would you, knave?" he added, turning suddenly upon some one who had more than once pulled his sleeve from behind, and beholding Ned Dyram.
"I would speak with you instantly, sir knight," replied Dyram, "on a matter of life and death."
"Shall it be so, sir?" Richard of Woodville continued, looking again to Sir John Grey, who repeated, thoughtfully, "In two hours--"
"Sir, will you listen to me?" exclaimed Dyram, in great agitation. "Indeed you must. There is not a moment to lose. I tell you it will bear no delay. If you would save her life, you must come at once."
"Her life!" cried Woodville, in great surprise. "Whose life? Of whom do you speak, man?"
"Of whom? of Ella Brune, to be sure," replied Dyram. "If you stay talking longer, you leave her to death."
Sir John Grey, with a bitter smile, shook his bridle, and, striking his heel against his horse's flank, rode on.