"How!" exclaimed the knight, drawing his sword. "Do you dare to intrude upon my presence? Begone! or I will punish your presumption." And he prepared to attack the apprentice.
"Advance a footstep," rejoined Leonard, who had never relinquished his grasp of Chowles, "and I pass my sword through this man's body. Speak, villain," he continued, in a tone so formidable that the coffin-maker shook with apprehension—"is she here or not?" Chowles gazed from him to the knight, whose deportment was equally menacing and appeared bewildered with terror.
"It is needless," said Leonard, "your looks answer for you. She is."
"Yes, yes, I confess she is," replied Chowles.
"You hear what he says, Sir Paul," remarked Leonard.
"His fears would make him assert anything," rejoined Parravicin, disdainfully. "If you do not depart instantly, I will drive you forth."
"Sir Paul Parravicin," rejoined Leonard, in an authoritative tone, "I command you in the king's name, to deliver up this girl."
Parravicin laughed scornfully. "The king has no authority here," he said.
"Pardon me, Sir Paul," rejoined Chowles, who began to be seriously alarmed at his own situation, and eagerly grasped at the opportunity that offered of extricating himself from it—"pardon me. If it is the king's pleasure she should be removed, it materially alters the case, and I can be no party to her detention."
"Both you and your employer will incur his majesty's severest displeasure, by detaining her after this notice," remarked Leonard.