“He loves you not—his vows are false,” interrupted Osbert, bitterly. “Shun him as you would shame and dishonour. If you have any love for him, tear it from your breast—no matter what the pang!—it can only lead to guilt and remorse.” “I have no love for him now,” she rejoined; “and if for a moment I yielded credence to his vows and passionate declarations, I have expiated the offence by tears and contrition. My constant prayer has been never to behold him more.” “All further peril may be averted if you will confide in me. Give me a husband’s right to defend you, and not all the world shall tear you from me. You cannot return to your father. He would not dare to give you shelter. And to enable me to watch over and protect you without damage to your fair fame, we must be bound together by sacred ties.” “Speak of this hereafter,” she rejoined. “You have convinced me of your sincerity, and I will trust you. Take me hence—whither I care not—so I am freed from the King.” “Come then,” rejoined Osbert. “No one will stay us. I have an order from the King, which will prevent all hindrance.” “But you will endanger yourself by the step you are about to take,” she said, hesitating. “Heed not that,” he rejoined. “I am prepared for the worst. Come!” They were about to quit the chamber, when they were stopped by old Dorcas, to whom her mistress hastily explained the necessity of flight. “I can help you in this extremity,” exclaimed the old woman. “I will show you a ready means of leaving the palace without traversing the corridor. While lifting the hangings against yon wall, I discovered a secret door opening upon a staircase, which I had the curiosity to examine, and found it led through a small postern to the garden. I meant to tell you of my discovery.” “You could not have reserved it for a better moment,” said Osbert “Adopt this plan, it will be safest,” he added to Constance. “Heaven be praised!” she exclaimed. “I can now escape without imperilling you!” “Think not of me,” he rejoined. “Pass through the secret door at once, but do not enter the garden till night, when I will meet you in the yew-tree alley. Meanwhile, I will make preparations for your conveyance to a place of safety. Delay not, I beseech you. Each moment is precious.” Thus urged, Constance snatched up a mantle and a few other articles, and declared she was ready to depart; whereupon Osbert drew back the hangings, while old Dorcas touched the spring of the secret door, which was artfully contrived in the oak panels. Casting a grateful look at her preserver, Constance disappeared with her old attendant. Another minute and it would have been too late. Scarcely had the tapestry fallen to its place, when sounds proclaimed that several persons had entered the ante-chamber, and the next moment Sir John Gage presented himself, accompanied by Father Alfonso. They both looked surprised on finding Osbert alone.