“Lady —­ Mistress Joan —­ art thou there?”

“I am within this turret —­ I am here, fair sir,” answered Joan, as calmly as her beating heart would allow.  “But I cannot open to thee, for I am but a captive here —­ the captive of Peter Sanghurst.”

“Now a prisoner bound, and answering for his sins before the Prince and some of the highest nobles of the land.  Lady, I and my men have come to set thee free.  I come to thee the bearer of a message from my brother —­ from Raymond de Brocas.  Give my stout fellows but a moment’s grace to batter down this strong door, and we will set thee free, and take thee to the Prince, to bear witness against the false traitor, who stands in craven terror before him below!”

But these last words were quite lost upon Joan.  She had sunk, trembling and white, upon a couch, overcome by the excess of joy with which she had heard her lover’s name pronounced.  She heard heavy blows dealt upon the oaken panels of the door.  She knew that her deliverance was at hand; but a mist was before her eyes, and she could think of nothing but those wonderful words just spoken, until the woodwork fell inwards with a loud crash, and Gaston, springing across the threshold, knelt at her feet.

“Lady, it is many years since we met, and then we met but seldom; but I come from him whom thou lovest and therefore I know myself welcome.  Fair mistress, my brother has been sorely sick —­ sick unto death —­ or he would be here himself to claim this fair hand.  He has been sick in body and sick in mind —­ sick with fear lest that traitor and villain who robbed him of your token should make foul use of it by deceiving thee with tales of his death or falsity.

“Lady, he was robbed by Peter Sanghurst of that token.  Sanghurst and our ancient foe of Navailles leagued themselves together and carried off my brother by treachery.  He was their prisoner in the gloomy Tower of Saut.  They would have done him to death in cruel fashion had not we found a way to save and rescue him from their hands.  They had done him some hurt even then, and they had robbed him of what had become almost dearer to him than life itself; but he was saved from their malice.  It was long ere he could tell us of his loss, tell us of thee; for he lay sick of a wasting fever for many a long month, and we knew not what the trouble was that lay so sore upon him.  But no sooner had he recovered so as to speak more plainly than we learned all, and I have been seeking news of thee ever since.  I should have been here long ago but for the contrary winds which kept us weeks at sea, unable to make the haven we sought.  But I trow I have not come too late.  I find thee here at Basildene; but sure thou art not the wife of him who calls himself its lord?”