For there, plain to see, was the ring of a heavy key in the lock of the massive door, and as the King seized the latch and raised it with a click, the door swung inward easily upon its well-oiled hinges, followed by a puff of the soft night air, which would have extinguished the light had not the King hastily closed the door again.
“Gone, and by this way!” he growled, as he turned the key, sending the bolt with a sharp snap into the socket. Then with a sharp tug he drew out the shining wards and signed to his follower to return.
Lord Hurst uttered a low sigh of relief, for he felt that the King had escaped a terrible danger, the loss of the jewel being as nothing to his life.
He backed slowly, lighting the way, till they were about half-a-dozen yards from the door, when he stopped short and raised the light on a level with a little horizontal niche close to the roof of the passage, into which the King thrust the key.
“There has been treachery here, Hurst,” he said sombrely, “for a stranger would not be likely to have found that key. Simple hiding-places are often the most safe. But there,” he growled, with a suppressed oath; “back into the corridor, but extinguish that light before you raise the arras, and make sure that we are alone.”
The order was obeyed, the chamberlain cautiously listening, before going down upon one knee to raise the tapestry a few inches from the floor and make sure that Carrbroke was the only occupant of the great gallery, then creeping quickly out, holding the hangings upward for the King to pass, and securing the door.
“Now,” cried the King furiously, as he brought one foot down with a heavy stamp, “the villains may be still within the grounds. Guard! Guard!” he roared, with a voice almost as deep as that of a raging bull; and as footsteps were almost directly heard, the enraged monarch turned upon his chamberlain and furiously bade him have the soldiery summoned and the place well searched, while many minutes had not elapsed before the alarm bell was sending its vibrating notes with a deep hum through the night air, and room and corridor echoed with the sounds of excited voices and trampling feet.
It was in the midst of the orders that were being given by King and courtier that the clashing sound of arms and shouts of angry men came from the gate and guard-room, to be followed by the news of the encounter and the visitors’ escape.
And then it was as if a storm was raging through the castle, set in agitation by the bluff King, who played the part of thunder god himself, ending by stamping and raging about the outer court animadverting upon the sluggishness of his guards, till the strong body of horsemen who formed his bodyguard of mounted archers stood drawn up, ready, with their arms and armour flashing in the light of scores of flambeaux, waiting for the final order thundered forth at last by the King himself, to spare not their spurs, but ride due south and bring back the culprits alive or dead.