"'Tis I," said Sir Osborne; "open the door, and speak to me."
"I dare not! I must not!" cried Longpole. "Have patience!" he whispered, "have patience! I will come to you after dark."
"Yet listen to me," said Sir Osborne; but at that moment a sound of horses' feet was again heard through the open window, and, unwillingly, he was obliged to desist.
The arrival of some guest now took place, as Sir Osborne judged by the sounds which made themselves heard: the inquiries for Sir Payan, the directions for tending the horses, and the orders to have them at the gate in an hour, the marshalling to the banquet-hall, the cries of the serving men, and all the fracas that was made, in that day, in honour of a visitor.
"By heaven!" said Sir Osborne, "it is Lady Constance de Grey! I remember she proposed coming here towards noon. If we could but let her know that we are here, or good old Dr. Wilbraham, her people would soon free us. But never does it fall better. Longpole has gone from his watch, or he might tell her. However, the door is only held by this latch; let us try to force it. Place your shoulder with mine, good Groby. Now a strong effort!" But in vain. The giant door stood unmoved, and Sir Osborne was obliged to resign himself to his fate.
Presently the noise of serving the repast in the chief hall died away, and the servants, retiring to their own part of the house, left the rest in quiet, while not a sound stirred to communicate to the bosoms of the prisoners any sensation either of hope or expectation. After about a quarter of an hour's pause, however, a door opened, and the voice of Lady Constance was heard speaking to Dr. Wilbraham. "Nay, my good father," she said, "do not go yourself to seek them. Though we have been treated with but little courtesy, yet we may stay a quarter of an hour longer. Perhaps the servants have not dined, and that is the reason they do not come."
"By your leave, lady, I will go," said the chaplain, "and will see that the horses be brought up; for to my poor mind we have staid here too long already for the civility we have received. I will not be long."
"Doctor Wilbraham!" cried Sir Osborne, as the door shut; "Doctor Wilbraham?" But the good tutor turned another way, and passed on without hearing the voice of his former pupil, and silence resumed her dominion over the part of the house in which they were placed. In a minute or two after, however, a heavy foot announced to the watchful ears of the young knight the approach of some other person; but he turned away towards the hall where Lady Constance had been left, and seemed to enter.
Shortly the voice of the lady made itself heard, speaking high and angrily, in a tone to which the lips of Constance de Grey seldom gave utterance.
"I do not understand what you mean, sir," said she, coming out of the hall. "Where are my servants? Where is Dr. Wilbraham?"