When I reached there all was dark. Not one sound could I hear, no one could I see. I hammered again and again at the door, but no man answered, until, as I remembered how rapidly the time was flying, I was wellnigh in a frenzy.
"Come, farmer, come!" I cried; "it's a matter of life and death!" But still I got no answer, save that I thought I heard a low, mocking laugh.
I knew not what to do, for it was full two hours before I had arranged to meet Constance. Neither did I mean to go into the house at all. She had told me that her horse should be waiting at the door saddled, and that we could ride away together. But no horse was there, neither was there, as I have said, any sign of life; and when I remembered that the constables might be there at any moment, I was in danger of losing my senses.
Thus I did what under any other circumstances might have placed my life in great danger, for I called to her aloud by name, and if watchers had been near they would have known that she was there.
"Constance, my love!" I cried, "it is Roland!" and then, quick as a flash of light, I felt that she was coming towards me.
"Roland, is it you?"
"Ay, it is. Quick! Quick!"
"Why, what is the matter?"
"The constables have discovered your hiding-place—they are even on the way now. Where is your horse?"
"In the stable. It will take me ten minutes to saddle him." It was the farmer who spoke.