"What now? Is it the noose so soon, or a knife sooner?"
I heard a quick-drawn breath, a soft footfall, and a small hand, groping in the dark, touched my cheek and crept thence to my helpless, manacled fist. "Who is it?" I demanded, blenching from the touch, "Who is it? Speak!"
"Hush!" whispered a voice in my ear, "It be only me, master. Jimmy—little Jim as you was good to. Red Andy don't beat me no more, he be afeared o' you. Good to me you was, master, an' so's she—took me to be her page, she 'ave—"
"Whom d'you mean, boy?"
"I mean Her! Her wi' the beautiful, kind eyes an' little feet! Her as sings! Her they calls 'my lady.' Her! Good t' me she is—an' so's you, so I be come to ye, master."
"Ha—did she send you?"
"No, I just come to save you from being hung to-morrow like they says you must."
"And how shall you do this, boy?"
"First wi' this key, master—"
"Stay! Did she give you this key?"