"Gratitude!" said Chartley, with a smile. "Kindness! Dear lady, she must have formed a very unfavourable opinion of mankind, if she thought there was any gentleman who would not do the same."
"But it may be done in very different ways, my noble lord," answered Constance; "and she assured me that you treated her as if you had been a brother."
Chartley murmured to himself in a low tone, "Would that I could have felt as one!" The sounds were hardly articulate; but they caught the ear of his companion, and the whole secret was revealed at once. She cast down her eyes in painful thought, from which she was roused the moment after by Chartley saying, almost in a whisper,
"Will you give her a message for me, dear lady? for I may never have the opportunity of saying what I wish myself."
"What is it, my lord?" demanded Constance, timidly, with a glow of agitation coming into her cheek.
"It is merely this," replied the young nobleman. "Tell her, that he for whom she risked so much--I mean the bishop of Ely--is safe in France. I have received intimation of the fact from a sure hand. Tell her so, and add that, if the deepest gratitude and the sincerest regard can compensate for what she underwent that night, she has them."
"I will," replied Constance. "I will repeat your words exactly. There can be no harm in that."
She laid some emphasis on the last words; and Chartley gazed in her face as if to learn the interpretation thereof, "There can, indeed, be no harm in that," he rejoined: "nor in telling her any thought of my mind towards her."
Constance was about to reply; but, looking up, she saw the eyes of her uncle fixed upon her, with a meaning smile upon his lip, as if he thought she had already made a conquest of Lord Chartley. The conversation between them then paused; and Lord Calverly, crossing to where they stood, proposed to lead the young nobleman, who was partly his guest, partly his prisoner, to the lodging which had been prepared for him, his friend Sir William Arden, and their attendants. Chartley followed in silence, and found everything done that it was possible to do to render his residence at Chidlow pleasant.
The old lord was all courtesy and kindness. In his usual pompous tone, he excused what he called the poverty of the furniture, though it was in reality of a very splendid description. He declared the bed was not half large enough, though it would have afforded room to turn in, to at least six well-grown persons. The plumes of feathers too, at the top of the posts, he declared were in a bad fashion, as well as the hangings of the bed, and the tapestry of the bedroom somewhat faded. The antechamber and the chamber adjoining were well enough, though somewhat confined, he said; but he excused their narrowness, on account of that part of the building being the most ancient of all, the tower having been built by William the Bastard.