'My lord tells me so,' returned lady Margaret simply.
'And whence doth my lord know it?' asked Dorothy, turning to lord
Herbert.
''An' thou be not satisfied of thine own innocence, Dorothy, I will ask thee a few questions. Listen to thine answers, and judge. How came the young puritan into the castle that night? But stay: we must have candles, for how can I, the judge, or my lady, the jury, see into the heart of the prisoner save through the window of her face?'
Dorothy laughed—her first laugh since the evil fog had ascended and swathed her. Lady Margaret rang the bell on her table. Candles were brought from where they stood ready in the ante-chamber, and as soon as they began to burn clear, lord Herbert repeated his question.
'My lord,' answered Dorothy, 'I look to you to tell me so much, for before God I know not.'
'Nay, child! thou need'st not buttress thy words with an oath,' said his lordship. 'Thy fair eyes are worth a thousand oaths. But to the question: tell me wherefore didst thou not let the young man go when first thou spied him? Wherefore didst ring the alarm-bell? Thou sawest he was upon his own mare, for thou knewest her—didst thou not?'
'I did, my lord; but he had no business there, and I was of my lord Worcester's household. Here I am not Dorothy Vaughan, but my lady's gentlewoman.'
'Then why didst thou go to his room thereafter? Didst thou not know it for the most perilous adventure maiden could undergo?'
'Perilous it hath indeed proved, my lord.'
'And might have proved worse than perilous.'