“Say, lady, what of him? I beseech thee, what of him?” cried Sir Patrick anxiously. “Hath any ill befallen him?”
“Nay,” said the lady; “would that had been all I had to tell!—Oh, how shall I speak it?—the wretch, taking advantage of my being left alone, dared to insult me. I fled forth from the apartment where I had unconsciously received him, and, having called the attendants, I had him secured, and he is now a prisoner in the dungeon.”
Hepborne was petrified with horror and amazement at this accusation against Maurice de Grey.
“Ha!” cried the Wolfe, “by my beard, thou didst bravely indeed, my girl.—The red fiend catch me, but he shall forthwith swing for it. A gallows and a halter there in the court-yard! By all the grim powers of hell, he shall dangle ere we dine.”
“Nay, nay, my Lord,” said Hepborne, sternly yet calmly, “that may not be without a trial. The youth is mine, and I am thy guest. I demand a fair trial for him; if he be guilty, then let him suffer for his coulpe; but until his guilt be proved, depardieux, I shall stand forth his defender.”
“By the holy Rood, but thou speakest boldly, Sir Knight,” cried the Wolfe, gnashing his teeth in ire. “Art thou then prepared to fight at outrance for thy minion?”
“My Lord,” said Hepborne coolly, “I am here as thy guest. Whilst I am under thy roof I trust the common rules of hospitality will bind us both; but shouldst thou rid thyself of their salutary shackles, I must prepare myself to do my best to resist [[232]]oppression, as a good and true knight ought to do. I ask but fair trial for the boy, which, in justice thou canst not and wilt not refuse me.”
The Wolfe paced the room backwards and forwards for some time with a hurried step, whilst the Lady Mariota sat sobbing in a chair.
“Mariota,” said he at length, “thou wert alone when the page came to thee?”
“I was, my good Lord,” replied the lady; “My damsels had gone forth at the time he entered my chamber.”