But as no answer was returned, he trust his arm up to the shoulder into the hole, and with some little difficulty and exertion of strength, drew forth Thames Darrell.
The poor boy, whose hands were pinioned behind him, looked very pale, but neither trembled, nor exhibited any other symptom of alarm.
"Why didn't you come out when I called you, you young dog?" cried Quilt in a savage tone.
"Because I knew what you wanted me for!" answered Thames firmly.
"Oh! you did, did you?" said the janizary. "And what do you suppose we mean to do with you, eh?"
"You mean to kill me," replied Thames, "by my cruel uncle's command. Ah! there he stands!" he exclaimed as his eye fell for the first time upon Sir Rowland. "Where is my mother?" he added, regarding the knight with a searching glance.
"Your mother is dead," interposed Wild, scowling.
"Dead!" echoed the boy. "Oh no—no! You say this to terrify me—to try me. But I will not believe you. Inhuman as he is, he would not kill her. Tell me, Sir," he added, advancing towards the knight, "tell me has this man spoken falsely?—Tell me my mother is alive, and do what you please with me."
"Tell him so, and have done with him, Sir Rowland," observed Jonathan coldly.
"Tell me the truth, I implore you," cried Thames. "Is she alive?"