"A thousand pardons," he said, bowing low before her.
"Who--who are you?" Barbara found words to ask."And what is your business here? It is no part of a gentleman's behaviour to enter houses by the window.""Nay," said the man, and Barbara noted that his speech was of one gently born--"nay, it is truly no gentleman's conduct, but in these days, when Kings are laid low at the hands of traitors"--and his voice had a bitter ring--"and rebels sit in high places, a gentleman must perforce descend to trickery and meanness now and then."Barbara repeated her question."But tell me who you are, and what you want?
There is a gate to the place; there are servants to open it.Why did you steal upon us thus? And Bevis?" she added, as a sudden misgiving seized her, "he was chained by the window.Have you killed him? Oh, say you have not hurt Bevis?""Nay, I could not hurt an old friend," said the stranger."Bevis and I are old friends.He remembered me at once."Barbara's fear diminished somewhat at these words."Old friends!" she exclaimed, half reassured.
"Yes," said the stranger, "we were together in the west.Colonel Mvddelton, whom I have striven hither to talk with, and I went through a campaign together; a futile campaign, I fear, with more of pursuit than pursuing, but for a high cause.I'faith, it seems my lot to be pursued.And you, fair lady (for, dark though it is, I know you are fair), are you Colonel Myddelton's daughter, the mistress Barbara, of whom he has told me?""I am Colonel Myddelton's daughter," said Barbara."But you, sir?""Right, right," the stranger replied, more gaily; "you ply me hard, but my name stays secret, none the less.Yet this ring may perhaps convince you Iam no common housebreaker.See, it was the gift of your father, and a passport, so he said, to Myddelton Hall by day or night." And he stretched forth a ring, which Barbara immediately recognized as an old signet of her father's which suddenly he had ceased to wear, he said not why.She was partially satisfied."And Bevis," added the stranger--"take it, will you not, dear lady, as a good omen that Bevis let me pass almost unchallenged?
But your father," he went on--"is he ill, or away? or will you lead me to him? Had I not fallen asleep, I was about to seek his room.As for entering by the gate, you must know, young mistress, the danger now run by friends of the late King.""Ah, yes," said Barbara, with a sigh."My father," she added, "rode this morning to London, where he will be a week yet; but I can tell you where he is lodged.Will you not follow him?""London!" the young man repeated, in disappointed tones; "what does he there? London is no place for a true man.""He has ridden thither," said Barbara, "on matters touching his property, which the rebels would confiscate.""Rebels!" cried the stranger excitedly."Ha! a good word in your mouth, young mistress.I like to hear you say that thus roundly.Zounds!" he added; "it is ill news that your father is away, for I have but a few hours in this country, and I must even return without accomplishing my mission.
To London I dare not adventure.But, mistress, will you not bring a light, that we may see if we still doubt each other; and then we must talk of a plan of safety.""Stay where you are," said Barbara, "and I will fetch a candle."During her absence the stranger had not moved.As she entered he stepped forward and took the light from her, holding it high and scrutinizing her face narrowly.
"Ah!" he exclaimed at last, with a sigh; "good as gold! Would that other lands could breed such grace! It is ill to be banished from one's own countrywomen."Barbara blushed and turned away.
The young man, who was soberly clad, had dark, almost black hair, and dark eyes.His mouth was perhaps too loose, but he was prepossessing.A certain melancholy, an air of bafflement, seemed to overshadow him.Barbara's sympathy was his at that moment, and he knew it.
"There is a hiding-place in the house," he said, after a pause; "your father has told me of it."Barbara started; but at these words, her last suspicion vanished."There is," she replied simply.
"Then will you lodge me there?" the stranger answered."The gravest issues depend upon the success with which my visit here is kept secret.So far, Ibelieve I have eluded suspicion and pursuit, but these Roundheads are cunning as jackals.And, dear preserver, might I crave some food and drink?""Alas!" exclaimed Barbara, "I have delayed hospitality too long.But, you see," she added, smiling, "such visitors are rare at Myddelton Hall.Our gates fly wide to welcome my father's friends when we know of their approach, I assure you, sir."The stranger bowed, and, smiling in reply, lost for the moment his air of melancholy.
"Your hiding-place is close at hand," she said, and looked again at the ring.
It was certainly her father's; she had often seen it on his hand.And Bevis, too! No, there could be no longer any doubt as to the stranger's genuineness.At least, if there were, she banished it forthwith, for, moving swiftly to the door, she locked it, and then, crossing the room to the fireplace, held up the light and revealed a portrait of an elderly man in Elizabethan costume.
"My great-grandfather," she said, "with whom, as I will show you, liberties have been taken."So saying, she climbed on a chair, and, reaching upward, pressed her finger against the portrait's right eye.As she did so, a spring was set in motion, and the picture slid upwards, taking the top line of the heavy oak frame with it, and leaving the remaining three sides in their place, disclosing a cavity in the wall.
"Climb in there," Barbara said, handing the candle to the stranger, "and turn sharp to the right, and then to the left, and you will come to an iron door, which rises and falls like a portcullis.The handle is of no use, but on the ceiling you will see the motto, _'Nil desperandum,'_ which you must take as counsel offered to yourself.Press the space in the centre of the D, and the door will open."The stranger did so.
