“For ever!” exclaimed the youth.
And as they quitted the cell, he threw himself despairingly on the ground.
Issuing from the outer door of the dungeon, Cicely and her companion took their way towards the Stone Kitchen. They had not proceeded far, when they perceived several persons approaching them, who, as they drew nearer, proved to be Dame Potentia, Xit, and the giants.
“What have you been doing, Cicely?” inquired her adoptive mother, angrily. “I have been searching for you everywhere!”
“You shall know anon,” replied the maiden. “But come with me to the palace. I must see Lord Guilford Dudley, or the Duke of Northumberland, without a moment’s delay.”
“Warders,” interposed Nightgall, authoritatively: “go to Master Manger’s lodging in the Bloody Tower. Bid him hasten with two assistants, and the sworn tormentor, to the dungeon beneath the Devilin Tower. He will know which I mean. Justice is about to be done upon a prisoner.”
“Oh no—no—do not go,” cried Cicely, arresting the giants. “He does not mean it. He is jesting.”
“Go home, then, and do not stir forth till I bring you the token,” rejoined Nightgall, in a deep whisper.
“In Heaven’s name, what is the meaning of all this?” cried Dame Potentia, in amazement.
“I will inform you,” replied the jailer, drawing her aside. “Your daughter was about to elope with the young esquire. I detected them trying to escape by the secret passage beneath the moat, of which you know I have the key. Lock her within her chamber. Pay no attention to her tears, entreaties, or assertions. And, above all, take care no one has any communication with her.”