"'Tis even so," said Sir John; "we have yet no clue to the search; but this night shall not pass without the attempt, at any rate. In the morning we will to the king with our complaint."
"Boy," said the baronet to his little henchman, "go to the woman's suite, and rouse Grace Gerard's maid."
"The woman was in the kitchen some half hour agone, conveying her mistress a warm draught, or some such puling diet," said the page.
"Haste," cried Sir John impatiently, marvelling at this unexpected intelligence,—"the lad is blinded by some misapprehension. I'll forfeit my best jewel she is not in her chamber. This interlude works i' the plot—part of the trickery now enacting."
But the page made a quick return.
"What news?" said Finett.
"The lady is gone to rest; something discomposed, though, and out of spirits. So says her maiden, whom I would have
questioned more straitly, but she rebuked me sharply for my impertinence."
"Pray you send and question her," said Sir John.
"Nay," returned Sir Gilbert, smiling, "I'll be bound the lady is safe; and her maiden has other guess-matters to look to than letting out the secrets of her mistress's chamber."