“Oh, Master Manners,” he cried, as he dropped on his knees, “this is a shameful thing; what can I do, I would help thee if I might?  I am disgusted with my lord; I loathe him and I shall flee from him.”

“’Tis no fault of thine, thou art young,” kindly responded Manners, “but canst thou tell me aught of Mistress Dorothy Vernon?”

“She is safe in the topmost room of the tower,” he replied.

“Is she in danger yet?”

“Nay, she is safe, and will be treated well.  Simon Greenwood’s dame says my lord left strange commands about her comfort, and she has already rated Simon soundly for his rudeness to the maiden.”

“Hist,” whispered a voice through the keyhole, “Simon is coming.”

Eustace threw up his hands in blank despair.  “O, Master Manners,” he ejaculated, “I am lost; Simon, would kill me if he finds me here.”

“Creep under there,” replied the prisoner, quickly; “it is dark, and I will befriend thee.”

The page obeyed, and he was not a moment too soon; before he could comfortably ensconce himself in the damp and fusty hole under the stone bench, the door opened and the chamberlain entered.

He was flushed with wine, and not at all the same cool, calculated man who had stood before the captive an hour before.

“Well, my hearty,” he exclaimed, as he seated himself upon the stone bench just over the gasping page, “things are rather bad, eh?”

“Begone,” said Manners, curtly.

“Nay, now, that’s hardly polite,” he replied.  “We will tame you down with the chains; ’tis many a year since I saw them used, and it would be quite a treat to see them on somebody once again,” and he kicked the rusty manacles which lay upon the ground.

“You dare not, and you know it,” retorted Manners fiercely; and, drunk as the man was, he cowered back beneath the glance.

“Ah, well, you are safe enough as you are, I reckon,” he returned, “and I am taking care of Doll for you,” he added with a sickening grin.

Dorothy’s lover started forward as the name of the maiden was pronounced.

“Scoundrel!” he cried, “weak as I am I would thrash thee well for such presumption, were I sure you would not visit your displeasure upon her.”

“Do as you list,” was the coarse reply, “but I swear Doll is a pretty lass.”

“Come here, you lout,” exclaimed a shrill voice, as the door opened and admitted a buxom woman of forty or thereabouts.  “I have found you at last; come out with you,” and she emphasised the command by a smart clout on his head.

Simon turned quickly round and prepared to retaliate, but quailing under the stern glance of his better half, he obeyed her will, and meekly slunk out through the open door.

“I’ll teach him, sir, how to behave to his betters,” said the woman, turning to Manners.  “He shall have a thrashing for this.”

Much amused, the captive esquire thanked her warmly for her kindness.  “But I have another favour to seek at your hands,” he said.  “I have had naught to eat as yet, and it is now evening.”