“Would you were!” ejaculated Osbert. “But I fear you will never behold him more. The King will be here presently, and will require an answer. What will you say to him?” “Say! What shall I say?” cried Constance, bewildered. “Ask me not,” rejoined Osbert, in a sombre voice. “Take this dagger,” he added, placing a poignard in her hand. “Conceal it about your person. You may need it.” “This dagger!” she cried, regarding the weapon. “What am I to do with it?” “Should the worst befall, plunge it in the King’s heart, or your own,” he rejoined. “I cannot,” she replied, letting the poignard fall upon the pavement. “I will not commit a crime that would doom me to perdition. Were I, in a moment of desperation, to do as you suggest, all hope of our reunion in a better world would be over. Then, indeed, I should be lost to you for ever.” “But this inexorable demon will be here anon,” cried Osbert, picking up the dagger. “The thought drives me mad. Would that these strong walls would crack asunder to let us pass, or the floor yawn and swallow us up. Anything to avoid him.” “Fresh shouts! more light against yon windows! They are adding fuel to the fire!” cried Constance. “’Twill be over soon.” “And then the King will come hither,” said Osbert. “Are you prepared for him?” “Fully prepared,” she rejoined. “Return to your place of concealment, lest he should appear suddenly.” “No, I will remain here, and brave his anger,” said Osbert. “Oh, do not act thus rashly!” she exclaimed. “You can render me no aid, and will only place yourself in needless peril.” “I have no desire to live. Let the tyrant wreak his utmost vengeance upon me if he will. Ha! he comes,” he cried, as the key grated in the lock, and the door opened. It was not the King, however, but Rodomont Bittern who entered. “Just as I expected!” exclaimed Rodomont. “Prudence is not to be looked for in a lover. I was certain I should find you talking to your mistress, and therefore I came to warn you that the King will be here directly. Back to the ambry at once.” “No more hiding for me,” returned Osbert. “I shall remain where I am.” “And be sent to the Tower, and have your head chopped off for your pains,” observed Rodomont. “What service will that do to Mistress Constance?” “It will only tend to make me more wretched,” she rejoined. “If you love me,” she added to Osbert, “you will not expose yourself to this great danger.” “There, you cannot resist that!” cried Rodomont. “Back to the ambry at once,” he continued, pushing him towards it. “And as you value your head, do not stir till the coast is clear.” “I cannot answer for myself,” remarked Osbert, as he got into the cupboard. “A word from the King will bring me forth.” “Then I’ll answer for you,” said Rodomont, locking the ambry, and taking away the key. “That’s the only chance of keeping him out of harm’s way. Be not cast down, fair mistress,” he added to Constance. “The Cardinal will protect you.”