“I will not trust you, false villain,” cried Sir Jocelyn.  “Give orders to the deputy-warden, and if he pledges his word they shall be obeyed, I will take it.  Otherwise you die.”

“Bid Master Tunstall come to me, Grimbald,” gasped the extortioner.

“I am here, Sir Giles, I am here,” replied the deputy-warden, cautiously entering the cell.  “What would you have me do?”

“Free me from this restraint,” cried Sir Giles, struggling to regain his feet.

Sir Jocelyn shortened his sword in order to give him a mortal thrust, but his purpose was prevented by Grimbald.  With his heavy bunch of keys the jailer struck the young knight upon the head, and stretched him insensible upon the ground.

CHAPTER XXVI.

A Secret Friend.

When Sir Jocelyn again became conscious, he found he had been transported to a different cell, which, in comparison with the “Stone Coffin,” was clean and comfortable.  The walls were of stone, and the pallet on which he was laid was of straw, but the place was dry, and free from the noisome effluvium pervading the lower dungeon.  The consideration shown him originated in the conviction on the part of the deputy-warden, that the young man must die if left in his wounded state in that unwholesome vault, and so the removal took place, in spite of the objections raised to it by Sir Giles Mompesson, who would have willingly let him perish.  But Master Tunstall dreaded an inquiry, as the prisoner had not yet been sentenced by the Council.

After glancing round his cell, and endeavouring recal the events that had conducted him to it, Sir Jocelyn tried to raise himself, but found his limbs so stiff that he could not accomplish his object, and he sank back with a groan.  At this moment the door opened, and Grimbald, accompanied by a repulsive-looking personage, with a face like a grinning mask, advanced towards the pallet.

“This is the wounded man, Master Luke Hatton,” said the jailer; “you will exert your best skill to cure him; and you must use dispatch, in case he should be summoned before the Council.”

“The Council must come to him if they desire to interrogate him now,” replied Luke Hatton; adding, after he had examined the injuries received by the young knight, “He is badly hurt, but not so severely as I expected.  I will undertake to set him upon his legs in three days.  I did as much for Sir Giles Mompesson, and he was wounded in the same manner.”

“Why, this is the young knight who struck down Sir Giles at the jousts,” said Grimbald.  “Strange! you should have two mortal enemies to deal with.”

“Is this Sir Jocelyn Mounchensey?” inquired Luke Hatton, with apparent curiosity.  “You did not tell me so before.”

“Perhaps I ought not to have told you so now,” returned the other.  “But do you take any interest in him?”

“Not much,” replied the apothecary; “but I have heard his name often mentioned of late.  You need not be uneasy about this young man being summoned before the Star-Chamber.  The great case of the Countess of Exeter against Lady Lake comes on before the King and the Lords of the Council to-morrow or next day, and it will occupy all their attention.  They will have no time for aught else.”