Long time their talk lasted.  Every now and then they would start and listen—­so Dorothy interpreted sudden silence and broken renewals.  The genius of the place, although braved, had yet his terrors.  At length she heard something like a half-conquered yawn, and soon after the voices ceased.

Again a weary time, and once more she fell asleep.  She woke in the grey of the morning, and after yet two long hours, but of more hopeful waiting, she heard Caspar’s welcome footsteps, and summoned all her strength to avoid breaking down on his entrance.  His first look of amazement she tried to answer with a smile, but at the expression of pitiful dismay which followed when another glance had revealed the cause of her presence, she burst into tears.  The honest man was full of compunctious distress at the sight of the suffering his breach of custom had so cruelly prolonged.

‘And I haf bin slap in mine bed!’ he exclaimed with horror at the contrast.

Had she been his daughter and his mistress both in one, he could not have treated her with greater respect or tenderness.  Of course he set about relieving her at once, but this was by no means such an easy matter as Dorothy had expected.  For the key of the chair was in the black cabinet; the black cabinet was secured with one of lord Herbert’s marvellous locks; the key of that lock was in lord Herbert’s pocket, and lord Herbert was either in bed at Chepstow or Monmouth or Usk or Caerlyon, or on horseback somewhere else, nobody in Raglan knew where.  But Caspar lost no time in unavailing moan.  He proceeded at once to light a fire on his forge hearth, and in the course of a few minutes had fashioned a pick-lock, by means of which, after several trials and alterations, at length came the welcome sound of the yielding bolts, and Dorothy rose from the terrible chair.  But so benumbed were all her limbs that she escaped being relocked in it only by the quick interposition of Caspar’s arms.  He led her about like a child, until at length she found them sufficiently restored to adventure the journey to her chamber, and thither she slowly crept.  Few of the household were yet astir, and she met no one.  When she was covered up in bed, then first she knew how cold she was, and felt as if she should never be warm again.

At last she fell asleep, and slept long and soundly.  Her maid went to call her, but finding it difficult to wake her, left her asleep, and did not return until breakfast was over.  Then finding her still asleep she became a little anxious, and meeting mistress Amanda, told her she was afraid mistress Dorothy was ill.  But mistress Amanda was herself sleepy and cross, and gave her a sharp answer, whereupon the girl went to lady Broughton.  She, however, being on her way to morning mass, for it was Sunday, told her to let mistress Dorothy have her sleep out.