‘Philip, also, is dead,’ replied Firebras. And smiling at Randulph’s astonishment, he added, ‘Now you see that all is in your grasp. Fate has given you the lady of your love. I offer you your fortune. Can you refuse to join us?’
‘Mr. Firebras,’ said Randulph, composing himself, ‘this is not the time to put such a question to me.’
‘Pardon me,’ cried Firebras sternly, ‘I must have an answer now—at this moment—or you lose your estates and Hilda for ever. Do not suppose I threaten lightly. I can, and will, make good my words.’
‘You mistake me altogether,’ rejoined Randulph. ‘I mean to say it would be useless for me to assent. You are betrayed.’
‘Betrayed!’ exclaimed Firebras, in a voice of thunder. ‘How! by whom? But this is a mere assertion made to turn me from my purpose.’
‘You will find it too true,’ replied Randulph. ‘The house is environed on all sides by grenadiers.’
‘I have just visited the summer-house,’ said Firebras. ‘There was no one there.’
‘The men were concealed in a lower chamber,’ said Randulph.
‘It’ may be so,’ cried Firebras, with a terrible imprecation. ‘But they shall not take me easily. My pistols! ha! they have been removed! The landlord, then, is our betrayer.’
‘He is,’ replied Randulph. ‘Your only chance of escape is apparent unconsciousness of the design. You might perhaps make good your own retreat—but the others——’