Soon we sat us down to the pleasantest meal that, methinks, ever had I partaken of. Clear of the gloomy Tower, and free, and there by my side the truest and most trusting maid upon the earth's broad face. And there was our huge Michael at the other side, eating and watching us with admiring eyes. Verily, my dears, no happier trio ever sat together, chatting like children at an outing. Hazel's dainty fingers had put each morsel in most tempting shape, and to add aught to her arrangement had been as difficult as to improve on the delicacy of soft moonlight, strained through the misty alabaster curtains of the Heavens.
"Now if Mary and Frederick were but here would it not be like our old happy days at the Palace at Windsor?" asked Hazel.
"Yea, indeed it should, but even more happy; for our troubles that are now past make us to appreciate happiness the more."
And so we talked on and were happy in our assurance that all should now be well and smooth, and after the battle we would go to mine old house that had stood waiting for its young master for many a day.
Then suddenly I heard a sound that startled me, and caused grave doubts as to our safety. It sounded not unlike a low whistle, and coming from some room within the house.
Michael's quick ear had heard it also; for he glanced anxiously first to me and then to Hazel. She too had heard it, and her face changed from its merry smile to a startled look of fear.
"Didst thou not hear that whistle, Walter dear?" she asked in alarm.
"What whistle, dearest?" I asked, that I might allay her fears. "'Twas but thine imagination playing upon thine ears; 'twas nothing."
"Nay, 'twas no imagination; 'twas real,—and hark!—there again it is."
This time there could be no mistaking the sound. Methought it came from one of the three rooms that did adjoin the large one in which we were.