CHAPTER VI.
Thrice had I loved thee
Before I knew thy face or name:
So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame,
Angels affect us oft, and worshipped be.--Donne.
The place to which Sir Osborne Maurice was conveyed, when the servants, according to their master's commands, removed him from the book-room, was a large dark chamber, running along beneath the whole extent of the principal stair-case, and some way into one of the towers beyond. The old manor-house--which for many reasons Sir Payan still inhabited, even after dispossessing Lord Fitzbernard of Chilham Castle--although built of brick, in a more modern style than the ancient holds of the feudal nobility, had not entirely abandoned the castellated architecture formerly in use. Here and there, upon the long front of the building, was fastened a large square tower, useless as a defence, and inconvenient as a dwelling; and at every angle appeared an imposthume-like watch-turret, of redder brick than the rest, like carbuncles upon the face of a drunkard. The curse of small windows also was upon the house, making it look as sombre without as it was dark within, and the thick leafless wood that swept round it on both sides excluded great part of that light which might otherwise have found its way into the gloomy mansion.
Darker than all the rest was the chamber to which Sir Osborne Maurice was conveyed; the whole of that part which was under the stair-case, receiving no light whatever, except from the other half, that, placed in one of the square towers, possessed the privilege of an unglazed window near the ceiling. It would be difficult to say for what purpose this chamber was originally contrived; but it is probable that at the time the house was built (during the contentions of York and Lancaster), such rooms might be necessary, even in private houses, both as places of strength and concealment, although too weak to resist long attack, and too easy of discovery to afford any very secure lurking-place. The use to which Sir Payan Wileton applied it was in general that of a prison for deer-stealers and other offenders who came before him in his magisterial capacity, which offenders he took care should ever be as numerous as there were persons of the lower orders who opposed or displeased him.
The men who conducted the young knight shut the door immediately upon him; and thus being left to ruminate over his fate, with his arms still tightly pinioned behind him, and scarcely light sufficient to distinguish any objects which the room contained, it may well be conceived that his meditations were not of the most pleasant description. But, nevertheless, indignation had roused his spirit, and he no longer felt that depression of mind, and abandonment of hope, which for a time had overpowered him. His first thoughts, therefore, were now of escape and revenge, but for the moment no means presented themselves of either; and though he searched round the apartment, ascertaining the nature and extent of his prison, which only consisted of that room and a large closet containing some straw, no chance whatever of flight from thence presented itself, and he was obliged to wait in hopes of circumstances proving his friend.
In about half an hour, the voice of Sir Payan Wileton was heard without, giving various orders, and a moment after, the trampling of horses sounded as if passing by the window. To Sir Osborne, accustomed for several years to watch with warlike acuteness every motion of a shrewd and active enemy, these sounds gave notice that his persecutor was gone for the time, and even the circumstance of his absence excited in the bosom of the young knight fresh expectation of some favourable opportunity.
Hardly had Sir Payan departed, when the lock, which might well have fastened the door of an antediluvian giant, squeaked harshly with the key; and the tall fellow, whom we have denominated hitherto, and shall still continue to denominate Longpole, entered, and pushed the door behind him.
"The devil's gone out on horseback," said he, coming near Sir Osborne, and speaking low, "and I have just got a minute to thank your worship."
"To thank me, my friend!" said Sir Osborne, somewhat doubting the man's meaning; "for what should you thank me?"
"For throwing the man over a hedge that struck my father," said Longpole, "and by that I see you are a true heart and a gentleman--and a knight into the bargain, I am sure, in spite of all Sir Payan's tales, and his minion's false swearing; and if I were not his sworn servant I'd let you off this minute, if I could find a way."