“What time is it?” said Humphrey, hastily.
“Time! What do we know about time here? ’Bout four bells.”
Humphrey gazed excitedly at the dimly-seen figure, visible by a faint light which streamed in beside the curtain, and then as the curtain fell he advanced slowly till he could peer through and see that Bart had gone right to the far end of the corridor, where he had a lantern set in a stone recess, beside which he ensconced himself, and played sentry once again.
“Escape is impossible unless I choose the gates of death,” muttered Humphrey, as he stole back cautiously, and then in a low voice said—
“Hist! Did anyone call?”
“Yes. Is it safe to whisper?” came from above.
“Mistress Greenheys!” cried Humphrey, joyfully. “Speak low, don’t whisper; it penetrates too far. How I have longed to hear from you!”
“Oh, sir, pray, pray, save him!”
“Dinny!” said Humphrey, starting.
“Yes. He is to be killed, and it was for your sake he ran that risk. Pray, try and save him.”