"Then ye mean to leave me here?" said the prisoner.
"We shall leave thee, but the tree will be watched," remarked Charles.
Madmannah asked no further questions. Naturally, his presence was a great annoyance to the king and his companion, and they moved as far from him as they could, and conversed in whispers.
Things went on thus for more than an hour, when the voice of Ezra was heard from below, calling out:
"Art thou still here, Madmannah?"
The prisoner heard the inquiry, but did not dare to make any answer, for he felt the point of the poniard at his throat, and Ezra departed.
No one else—friend or foe—came near the oak.
The day seemed interminable—but night came at last. In expectation of the arrival of William Penderel, they had got all in readiness for departure. But what was to be done with the prisoner? That was rather a perplexing consideration, for the king did not altogether like to leave him in the tree. Charles was still undecided, when a signal was given, and peering out from the screen of foliage he could just distinguish three huge figures standing at the foot of the tree.
"The fellow shall go down with us," he observed in an under tone to Careless. "William Penderel and two of his brothers are below. They will dispose of him. Unloose him quickly."
Careless obeyed the injunction.