"No letters! No appeal!" said his father, half in scornful mistrust, half in doubt. "None--I protest to you, my father," replied the agitated youth. "Now--but only now--can I construe rightly the words my uncle uttered on his deathbed, which spoke of wrong he had done me and you." "Can I believe all this?" said the passionate old cavalier, now evidently wavering in his wrath. "As God lives," said Gerald; "that God whom I perhaps offend, that I thus call upon his name--that God who has said, 'Swear not at all.'" The old cavalier shrugged his shoulders at this evidence of the Puritanical education of his son. "I swear to you, that I know nothing of those matters." Lord Clynton was evidently moved, although the rebellious spirit within still resisted the more affectionate promptings of his heart-- "Father, prove me," cried Gerald imploringly. "Let me live henceforth to serve you--let me die for you, if needs must be--let me save you from this prison--let me earn thy blessing--that blessing, which is my dearest treasure upon earth." Gerald again bent down at the old man's feet. Lord Clynton still struggled with his feelings. There was still a contest in his heart between long-cherished anger, and newly-awakened confidence. Before either could again speak, the trampling of feet was once more heard along the vaulted passage. The agitated son rose quickly to his feet, and strove to repress his emotion. His father gave him one look; and that look he fondly construed into a look of kindness. In another moment the colonel entered the court, followed by two soldiers. Gideon's poised leg fell to the ground; his eyes opened and stared out wonderfully. That troubled stare told, as if the eyes had had a tongue, that Go-to-bed Godlamb had been sleeping soundly on his post. Fortunately for the somnolent soldier, the sharp looks of Lazarus Seaman were not bent in his direction. With a formal bow to his prisoner, Colonel Seaman informed him that the time allotted to him for exercise in the open air was past. With another formal inclination of the head, the old cavalier bowed to his jailer, and turned to mount the tower stair. He exchanged not another look with his son: but as he turned away, Gerald tried to read in his face a milder feeling. "I will save him, or will die!" muttered Gerald to himself, as the party disappeared under the tower gateway. "I will force him to grant me that blessing he has refused me--I will earn it well;" and he determined in his mind that, come what might, he would find means to be appointed to the midnight watch. CHAPTER III. "Trifles light as air Are, to the jealous, confirmation strong, As proofs of holy writ." _Othello._ "Honest soldier, Who hath relieved you?-- Bernardo hath my place." _Hamlet._