Convinced from the voice that he had a being of this world to deal with, the esquire seized her vestment, and resolved to detain her till he had ascertained who she was and what was the cause of her cries; but just as he had begun to question her, a distant footstep was heard, ands uttering a loud shriek, and crying—“He comes!—he comes!”—the female broke from him and disappeared.
Fresh shrieks were presently heard in a more piteous tone than before, mixed with angry exclamations in a man’s voice, which Cholmondeley fancied sounded like that of Nightgall. A door was next shut with great violence; and all became silent.
While he was musing on this strange occurrence, Cholmondeley heard footsteps advancing along the passage on the left, and in another moment Lawrence Nightgall stood before him.
The jailer, who carried a lamp, eyed the captive for a few moments in silence, and with savage satisfaction.
“It is to you, then, I owe my imprisonment, villain,” said Cholmondeley, regarding him sternly.
“It is,” replied the jailer; “and you can readily conjecture, I doubt not, why I have thus dealt with you.”
“I can,” resumed the esquire; “your jealousy prompted you to the deed. But you shall bitterly rue it.”
“Bah!” exclaimed Nightgall. “You are wholly in my power. I am not, however, come to threaten, but to offer you freedom.”
“On these,” replied the jailer, scowling—“that you swear to abandon Cicely.”
“Then your fate is sealed,” rejoined Nightgall. “You shall never quit this spot.”
“Think not to move me by any such idle threat,” returned Cholmondeley. “You dare not detain me.”
“Who shall prevent me?” laughed the jailor, scornfully. “I, alone, possess the key of these dungeons. You are their sole occupant.”
“That is false,” retorted the esquire. “There is another captive,—a miserable female,—whom I, myself, have seen.”
“Has she been here?” cried Nightgall, with a look of disquietude.
“Not many minutes since,” replied the other, fixing a scrutinizing glance upon him. “She came in search of her child. What have you done with it, villain?”
Cholmondeley had no particular object in making the inquiry. But he was astonished at the effect produced by it on the jailer, who started and endeavoured to hide his confusion by pulling his cap over his brows.