"I cannot see them yet," he exclaimed, "but there are more than one, and they are nearing fast. If it should be Dorothy," he said with a sigh of intense feeling; "what joy!"
"Aye, there are more than one," said Stanley. "We cannot see them here. Hark, they are thundering at the gate even now; let us go and meet them, and heaven grant, whoever it may be, that they bring good news."
"Amen," ejaculated the baron fervently, and his prayer was echoed by the rest.
Before they could reach the gate, the horseman had been admitted; and as Sir George and his friends stepped into the yard they recognised—not the features of Sir Edward Stanley, as Margaret's lover secretly thought, but the well-known form of Manners.
"How!—by my halidame, what meaneth this?" exclaimed the baron, delighted beyond measure to see the esquire again. "Tell me, Manners, where my Dorothy is?"
"Speak fair words," cautioned Stanley, with a frown.
"Dorothy!" gasped her lover. "Hasten, I beseech thee. She is at Ashby.
Where is De la Zouch, the villain?"
"On his way home," answered Sir Thomas.
Manners groaned aloud.
"Heaven forfend us, then," he cried. "He is a monster of iniquity. We must hasten back, an you would rescue Dorothy."