"Cease jesting, maiden. Quips and cranks are not seemly in a woman, nor in a man either, seeing the days are evil. You and I have got on better since you have bridled your tongue."
"As you will, sir; and now, if it be your pleasure, I will lead you to the gardens and stables."
"Ah, trooper! Any news?"—as a figure approached them from out the gloom.
"None, captain—not a living soul—not so much as a rabbit has crossed my path."
"Is it so? Keep your loins girt and your ears and eyes open, and we may yet prevail. Lead on, maiden."
Round the gardens, through the stables, up into the loft and store chambers went the captain and Cecily, the latter talking all the time, but in a lower tone and far more naturally than before the stumble on the gravel in front of the Abbey.
At length the round was completed, and as the officer again entered the hall with Cecily, he said—
"Well, all has been done that can be done. The man I want is not here. He must have passed on, deeming it too dangerous a spot wherein to rest. But I'll have him yet."
"That is as may be, sir. Still, in any case, I trust that you will not deem either my aunt or myself wanting in courtesy in affording you all the help in our poor power in your search."
"Nay, maiden. If I judge rightly, you have done all you can to aid the ruler of this realm. You have done your duty."