"He is in this donjon, in a room near Sir Eustace. He was in one of these cells but a few hours since."
"What! Was his, then, the voice we heard? You have tortured him, inhuman monsters!" and Edgar, in his anger, thrust the point of the dagger so close to Duprez's neck that the man winced with fear.
"Nay, nay, good sir, we have tortured him not. He contracted a fever two days after he came, and is wild with delirium. Sir Eustace feared to lose him if he kept him in these dungeons, and had him taken to a room halfway up the keep."
"Ah! Tell me how I may reach this room."
Sullenly the man obeyed.
"These keys at thy belt. Which is the key of Sir John's room?"
Again the man gave the information desired, and Edgar, satisfied that he had obtained all that he required, stripped him of his cloak and then gagged him effectively with pieces torn from the rugs. In his elation he could have shouted for joy. Sir John was ill, but if all went well before another hour had gone he would at least be free.
By this time Peter had rid himself of one of his shackles and the other was nearly shorn through. The shackles, though thick and heavy, were soft and rusty, and were an easy problem to an armourer's assistant in possession of well-tempered swords and a dagger. In a few more minutes he was free to attack Edgar's bonds in their turn. Soon he also could stretch his limbs in freedom.
"Well done, Peter! Now strip that man of his cloak and put it on. Gird on sword and dagger, roll up the rugs, and let us be off. Sir Eustace is awaiting us, and unless we act at once our chance will be lost for ever."
"'Tis so, Master Edgar. We have indeed little time to lose. If Sir Eustace waxeth impatient, he may send other men to look for the first."