I believe there is a certain amount of grief and sorrow which comes with every great joy to give it a cost mark whereby we may always know its value.  The love between Dorothy and John indeed was marked in plain figures of high denominations.

CHAPTER XII

THE LEICESTER POSSIBILITY

On Leaving the dungeon I sought Madge, and after I had whispered a word to her from my heart I asked her to tell Dorothy the encouraging words of the surgeon, and also to tell her that she should not be angry with me until she was sure she had good cause.  I dared not send a more explicit message, and I dared not go to Dorothy, for Sir George was in a suspicious mood and I feared ruin not only for myself but for John, should my violent cousin suspect me of sympathy with his daughter and her lover.

I also sought Aunt Dorothy and whispered a word to her of which you shall hear more presently.

“Ah, I cannot do it,” cried the trembling old lady in response to my whispered request.  “I cannot do it.”

“But you must, Aunt Dorothy,” I responded.  “Upon it depend three lives:  Sir George’s, Dorothy’s, and her lover’s.  You must do it.”

“I will try,” she replied.

“That assurance will not suit me,” I responded.  “You must promise upon your salvation that you will not fail me.”

“I promise upon my salvation,” replied Aunt Dorothy.

That evening of course we did not see the ladies at supper.  Sir George and I ate in silence until my cousin became talkative from drink.  Then he spoke bitterly of Dorothy’s conduct, and bore with emphasis upon the fact that the lover to whom Dorothy had stooped was a low-born serving man.

“But Dorothy declares he is noble,” I responded.

“She has lied to me so often that I do not believe a word she says,” returned Sir George.

He swore oath upon oath that the wretch should hang in the morning, and for the purpose of carrying into effect his intention he called in Joe the butcher and told him to make all things ready for the execution.

I did not attempt to thwart his purpose by word or gesture, knowing it would be useless, but hoped that John would be out of his reach long ere the cock would crow his first greeting to the morrow’s sun.

After Sir George had drunk far into the night the servants helped him to bed, and he carried with him the key to the dungeon together with the keys to all the outer doors and gates of Haddon Hall, as was his custom.  The keys were in a bunch, held together by an iron ring, and Sir George always kept them under his pillow at night.

I sought my bed in Eagle Tower and lay down in my clothes to rest and wait.  The window of my room was open.