"Tom is there."
"Ah! send him here to the bar. But do you come, mon ami. See, I go with you." She rose and forcing herself to the effort, led the way across the bar and into the corridor of the north wing, as if to show him that in sixteen years she had not forgotten.
CHAPTER XX
IN THE OAK PARLOUR
"You know the way?" Dan exclaimed as he caught up with her, and held open the door that led into the old north wing.
"But so well," she replied, catching her breath. "Would to God that I did not!"
"Ah!" he murmured, "I forgot that you have been here before."
They pressed on silently. At the turn of the corridor upon which the Oak Parlour gave, they discerned Tom Pembroke, a weird figure, in the dim light of the tallow dip upon the table, that cast fantastic shadows upon the whitewashed walls.
As he recognized them, he sprang forward in astonishment. "Madame de la Fontaine! Dan! What does this mean?" he cried.