Gilbert started and stood still; then said, with cold contempt:  “Do you flinch?”

“From what?” inquired the other, calmly.

“From that mass of stone.”

“What have we to do with that?”

“Enter it before an hour.”

“And die before an hour,” replied Humbert.

“Or live,” said Gilbert, rather to himself than to his attendant, and resuming his rapid advance.

Humbert stood awhile, rooted to the ground, in mute amazement at his lord’s inexplicable behavior.  But every moment was precious.  He sprang forward, and again seizing Gilbert’s arm, he threw himself on his knees.

“My dear lord!” he exclaimed, “I conjure you in the name of your father to desist from this madness, and to return!  You are rushing upon certain destruction!  You are flinging away your life!  Remember it is Monday!  The arm of our blessed mother, the Church, cannot protect you to-day!  My wife and my children will be left without a father, and the lordship of Hers without an heir!” Here the honest yeoman burst into tears, but the youth’s determination was taken.  He disengaged himself from his follower’s grasp, and said, resolutely, but kindly: 

“Return!”

“And leave you to perish alone?” cried Humbert, springing to his feet.  “No, no!  I am no craven!  And why should I return?  To be reproached with having seduced my lord into danger, and then basely deserted him?  If you advance, I go with you, though I cannot guess your object, or justify your seeming madness.  But I implore you to remember your duty as a son and as a Christian, and not to take a step that will make your enemies exult and your friends tear their hair in sorrow!”

For a moment the noble stood irresolute; but the next instant he seized Humbert’s hand with a vice-like grip, and whispered in his ear, “I must see the Lady Margaret!”

Without waiting for a reply, Gilbert strode forward.  Before the drawbridge was gained, Humbert had recovered himself, and was prepared to put forth all his daring and skill to extricate themselves from the consequences of this perilous adventure.

“Ho! warder!” he cried, in a confident tone, “a minnesinger—­Ailred of Zurich—­and his harp-bearer, wet and fasting.  Shelter in the name of God!”

Down came the drawbridge, and the portcullis rose and fell, leaving them on the other side of the moat, surrounded by the men of Stramen.  They were conducted with much respect to a comfortable room in the castle, and the arrival announced to the Lord Sandrit de Stramen.  The baron, who had heard of Ailred’s rising fame, was delighted with the intelligence, and invited the minstrel to his principal hall.  Humbert encased his harp, and having tuned it, delivered it to Gilbert.  Then, with scrupulous care, having re-examined his costume, he ascended a flight of stairs, escorted by a serf, and ordered Gilbert to follow.  They were ushered into a spacious room, hung with armor and broidered tapestry.