He then knelt down and prayed fervently, continuing his vigils until long after midnight, when weariness overcame him, and flinging himself upon the straw, he presently fell asleep.
He was roused from his slumbers by a stone which fell upon the floor of the vault not far from where he was lying, and as he stirred he heard a voice calling to him from the barred window, and looking in that direction, he could just distinguish the figure of a man.
“Who speaks?” he demanded rising to his feet.
“A friend,” replied the other. “Come nearer—quick!”
“The voice seems familiar to me,” observed Carver, “and if I did not deem it impossible, I should say it was——”
“It is he you suppose,” interrupted the speaker. “Come as near me as you can, and come quickly, for I may be discovered.”
Thus adjured, Carver mounted the bench, and was then only separated by the bars from the person outside, whom he now recognised as Osbert Clinton.
“Why have you incurred this danger on my account, oh, rash young man?” he cried.
“I have somewhat to impart,” replied Osbert; “but I must be brief, for though the man on guard has quitted his post, he may return. In a word, then, I shall make an attempt to deliver you from these bloodthirsty tigers to-morrow. I have half a dozen friends with me, and when you are brought forth for execution, we will fall upon the guard and set you free.”
“I forbid you to make the attempt, my son,” replied Carver. “I am fully prepared to die, and would not accept a pardon from my enemies were it offered me. By freeing me as you propose, you would wrest from me the crown of martyrdom which I hope to win at yonder stake. My race is almost run, and the goal is at hand. I have done with the world, and would not be brought back to it. My last sufferings will be sharp, but they will be speedily over, and I rejoice that I am able to bear them. Again, I say, this attempt must not be made.”