The stars had been obscured by passing clouds, and so intense was the darkness that, although the loom of the country was faintly discernible, the extent of the new danger was totally concealed.
"The false knight hath betrayed us," exclaimed Oswald. "What is to be done?"
"We cannot do better than stand where we are till dawn," replied Geoffrey. "To proceed is to court a speedy death; to return is to suffer a worse fate. Perchance when 'tis light we may find a way."
As he spoke Geoffrey looked towards the open bars of the doorway through which they had just passed. The torches had been extinguished, but a low mocking laugh told the lads that some one was listening and waiting to enjoy their discomfiture.
"Is this the way a knight keeps his pledge?" asked Oswald.
"Why doubt my word?" replied a deep voice that the youths had recognized as that of Sir Denis of Malevereux. "Did I not tell ye the way was open? Fare ye well, then. If so be ye will not profit by my advice, then stay and starve. On the morrow, ay, and many succeeding morrows, I'll watch the struggle 'twixt thy choice of death."
Slowly the night passed. The sky, hitherto slightly overcast, became so clouded that the pitch-like blackness restricted the youths' field of vision to such an extent that they could scarce discern each other.
With the banking up of the clouds a strong wind sprang up, increasing in violence till ere long it blew with terrific violence.
Crouching on the stone floor against the side of the vault-like tunnel, the lads awaited the dawn. The wind pierced them like a knife, and in their scanty clothing their bodies shivered with the cold.
Occasionally they would converse in short broken sentences, debating upon the turn of events and the probable disclosures brought by the dawn. Fortunately, they did not as yet feel the pangs of hunger, thanks to their repast ere they were taken from their prison; but the vague threats in which Sir Denis referred to slow starvation filled them with gloomy fears.