"True," said the earl, as he replaced the jewel; "but I will be in thy debt three hundred Scottish crowns. And now let me have breakfast; for no vexation was ever so great that it deprived me of my appetite."
Cold beef, bread, cheese, eggs, fish, and spiced ale formed a repast which greatly comforted the earl, who saw with regret, however, how scrupulously the single knife that was allowed him was watched and removed by the careful Trotter. But the moment this meal was over, and his attendant had withdrawn, he recommenced a most minute examination of his prison, and was gradually forced to acknowledge, with a sigh of bitterness, that though neither so strong as Norham, nor so loftily situated as Stirling, its capabilities for escape were very limited indeed.
Several days passed monotonously away.
The earl became horribly impatient; he had shaken every window-bar for the hundredth time; and for the hundredth time also, with the heel of his boot, had sounded every slab of the pavement, and every stone of the walls, but all were solid as a mass of rock.
"Friend Thomas," said he, half banteringly and half savagely, on the thirteenth day of his confinement, "how long does that prince of villains, thy master, mean to keep me here?"
"As long as he pleases, I suppose."
"A vague term, that—most unpleasantly so. I should like much to have been a little consulted in the matter; but as he omitted this politeness, I mean to escape on the first opportunity, and without formality."
"Escape?" reiterated Trotter, with a grin.
"The walls——"
"Are six feet thick, and the window hath three bars, ilk ane like the shaft of my Jethart staff."