"Creep under there," replied the prisoner, quickly; "it is dark, and I will befriend thee."
The page obeyed, and he was not a moment too soon; before he could comfortably ensconce himself in the damp and fusty hole under the stone bench, the door opened and the chamberlain entered.
He was flushed with wine, and not at all the same cool, calculated man who had stood before the captive an hour before.
"Well, my hearty," he exclaimed, as he seated himself upon the stone bench just over the gasping page, "things are rather bad, eh?"
"Begone," said Manners, curtly.
"Nay, now, that's hardly polite," he replied. "We will tame you down with the chains; 'tis many a year since I saw them used, and it would be quite a treat to see them on somebody once again," and he kicked the rusty manacles which lay upon the ground.
"You dare not, and you know it," retorted Manners fiercely; and, drunk as the man was, he cowered back beneath the glance.
"Ah, well, you are safe enough as you are, I reckon," he returned, "and I am taking care of Doll for you," he added with a sickening grin.
Dorothy's lover started forward as the name of the maiden was pronounced.
"Scoundrel!" he cried, "weak as I am I would thrash thee well for such presumption, were I sure you would not visit your displeasure upon her."