"Yes, 'tis unfortunate that it was to fetch us to Sir Eustace that Duprez came; but that cannot be helped, and at least 'tis night, and the greater part of the castle inmates will be asleep. In these cloaks we shall be able to pass along unmolested, if so be we can avoid Black Eustace whilst bringing out Sir John."
Taking up the torch, Edgar left the grim cell, closely followed by Peter, and shut the door behind him. They were free for the moment--free until Sir Eustace grew impatient at the tardy return of his messengers and set out to enquire the reason.
As rapidly as possible the two young men traversed the ghostly underground passages and ascended a narrow winding staircase of stone towards the room in which Duprez had said Sir John was now lodged. It was found without difficulty, for, to their horror, as they neared the spot they heard the selfsame cries that had so startled them before. It seemed that Duprez had spoken truly, and as he reached the door it was with a trembling hand that Edgar thrust the key into the lock.
The room was in darkness, but by the light of the torch held on high he saw Sir John. He was alone, but on a table near by were food and drink, which seemed to have been placed there not long since. The knight lay on a couch fully clothed, and was staring straight up at the ceiling, tossing his arms and shouting. At the noise of Edgar's entry and the light of the torch, he ceased for a moment, and, lifting his head, stared at the newcomers with eyes that seemed to search without the power of thought. Then his head fell back, and he resumed his wild shouting and tossing.
"Thou shalt see, false knight--think'st to bend to thy will a true knight of England? Infamous proposals! Worthy Gervaise de Maupas and grim Eustace of Ruthènes! The earl shall know--at last I tell thee--the time will come."
"Sir John, Sir John," cried Edgar breathlessly, "we are come to set thee free! Canst bear to be lifted, my lord?"
"Hark, I hear the tramp of men! From the woods and mountains--they come--black knight of Ruthènes. They come to avenge--dreadful deeds. Full reparation shall they exact----"
"Be silent, I beseech thee, Sir John!" cried Edgar in desperation, as he realized how fearfully difficult would be the task of conveying the sick knight from out the castle did he persist in his wild cries. Then he placed his arm round him soothingly and tried to still his restless tossings, talking quietly to him the while. "See, now, Sir John, we are going to take thee to the lady Gertrude. She shall tend thee. Keep thee still and all shall be well. Talk not so, dear Sir John, but rest thy head on my shoulder. Soon shall we be out of this fearsome castle and breathe freely the open air of heaven." Then in an urgent whisper he went on: "Come, Peter, there is not an instant to be lost. He is quieting. Wrap those rugs around him and take him gently by the legs. I will bear his head and shoulders."
For the moment the knight's cries sank into indistinct murmurs. He seemed to feel that friends at last were around him, and to be content to resign himself quietly into their hands.
"Whither shall I lead?" whispered Peter, as he opened the door and prepared to issue forth.