"To me this insult! I'll chase thee from thy lair!" exclaimed the incensed Sir William.
Roger de Cliderhow at this moment suddenly approached, and in great alarm. He whispered Sir Osmund.
"'Tis Sir William!—Thou hast no time for parley. If his coming get abroad we are undone. Call thy men hither, and let him be conveyed away privily. The dungeon will tell no tales. I'll summon them. If the servants get a whisper of the matter, I'll give out he is an impostor."
Fearful of encountering the glance of his injured lord, this worthy withdrew in great precipitation.
It was but the work of a moment. Sir Osmund had taken the precaution to prevent all egress, so that Sir William and his lady were, in fact, prisoners, at the mercy and discretion of a cruel and cowardly foe.
Sir William had thrown off his cloak and the remainder of his disguise. He now stood proudly erect before the supplanter, who was somewhat stunned by this unexpected issue.
"I defy thee to the combat; hast thou the grace to give me a weapon, or art thou as cowardly as thou art presuming?" tauntingly inquired Sir William.
"Impostor! wouldst have me believe every wish that folly genders? To the proof!" sullenly replied Sir Osmund.
"What says the Lady Mabel? Let her decide," returned the other.
"She!" cried the ingrate, with a contemptuous sneer; "her wits are so set upon it, that she would worship any ill-favoured lout that should call himself her husband."