"Most assuredly. I have long worshipped thee in secret. It is only my unhappy enmity with thy guardian that hath prevented me from approaching thee, and hath forced me to resort to this expedient to enable me to proffer thee my love. As doubtless thou know’st, I am a knight of good lineage, and one whose lands, if thy guardian granted my rightful claims, would be both wide and rich." "Thy love hath no attractions for me, Sir Gervaise de Maupas," cried Beatrice, with difficulty restraining a desire to sink back upon the couch. "I believe thee to be nothing less than a traitor. What hast done with Sir John? I believe thee to be at the bottom of his disappearance." For a moment De Maupas appeared startled. But after a moment’s pause in indecision he replied calmly: "I do not wish to deny it, lady. ’Twas indeed I who arranged his capture. But ’tis said that all is fair in love and war, and to love for thee and war towards Sir John I must ascribe the deed." "Where is he?" cried Beatrice breathlessly. "He is here." "In this castle?" "In this castle, lady." There was a momentary pause. Beatrice’s lips trembled so that they would scarcely frame her words. Then she resolutely mastered her emotion and asked: "How is it named?" De Maupas hesitated for a moment. Then he shrugged his shoulders and went on: "I see no harm in letting thee know. This castle is called Ruthènes." "_Oh!_" The tone of the interjection was so singular that De Maupas stared at Beatrice in astonishment. She had turned slightly aside, and was looking not at him but at the door. "The name seemeth familiar," he said coolly. "Perchance Sir John’s hot-headed esquire, Edgar Wintour, hath mentioned it to thee?" As he spoke De Maupas toyed with the sword girded at his side, and, with a sickening shock, Beatrice recognized the weapon. It was Edgar’s! He, too, must then be a prisoner! "I see thou dost recognize the weapon," said De Maupas grimly, as he noticed with secret satisfaction how the blood had left her face and how she had to bite her lips to subdue their trembling. "Is he then also a prisoner in this castle?" she asked after a pause, during which she managed to regain a semblance of composure. "Yes," replied De Maupas, without a blush. "He and that limping youth of his are both fast in the dungeons of Ruthènes. I fear they will never see the light unless----" He stopped and shook his head forebodingly. Then he walked slowly to the window, and stood gazing out as though lost in thought. Beatrice waited for some minutes for De Maupas to finish, but he seemed to have forgotten her existence. "What dost intend to do with Sir John and his esquire?" she asked presently in a pleading voice. "Surely thou wouldst not do harm to thine own countrymen?"