"She is doing well. She has had a meal already. I have her under my own care, the sweet creature; heaven bless her! I had come to thee at her request to bid thee be of good cheer." "Aye, heaven bless her, for she is in a sorry fix," assented Manners. "Tend her well, and I will well reward thee. Thou shalt have such gauds as thy neighbours shall turn green with envy at the sight of thee." "I want them not," was the short reply, and Simon Greenwood's dame passed out of the dungeon, leaving Manners alone with the page. The door had barely closed before Eustace emerged from his uncomfortable retreat, covered with insects of many kinds. "Ha, ha!" he laughed. "Simon boasts that he cares for no man, save his lord; but he has to care for Dame Greenwood, though, ha, ha! I would even venture in that vile hole once more to see him thwacked again." "Thank heaven Mistress Vernon is safe," said Manners. "Simon will not disturb her, think you?" "Not he, sir, never fear. Simon Greenwood knows better than that; and, see, I have brought thee this," and the page pulled out a dagger and offered it to him. "Nay, put it back," said Manners kindly. "I would not kill my gaoler, he is but performing his commands." "But if it were for Sir Henry De la Zouch?" "Ha! then I might, perchance." "You have much to forgive me," continued the page, "for I have done thee grievous wrong." "How? Thou art but a lad, and I have seen thee only once before?" "It was then, at the hawking party, when Sir Henry slew the pedlar. It has haunted me ever since." Manners was intensely surprised at this announcement. It was, indeed, startling and important news. The mystery was solved at last. "It was Sir Henry, then!" he exclaimed. "I might have guessed as much." "It was Sir Henry, and I witnessed it, but I will tell thee afterwards. Listen, for time is short. Pierce this corner with the dagger; do it quickly, for the wall is thick. There is a passage on the other side, of which none knows save my master and myself. The wall is softest here, and I will help thee from the other side: but I must make thy gaoler drunk. He is full fond of ale, so you may be assured that you will be unmolested, and I will have horses saddled at a distance. Adieu until to-night," and not heeding the thanks which Manners poured out from his grateful heart, he rapped at the door so that he might pass out. The meal arrived in good time. A tankard of ale and a slice of bacon with wheaten bread, more than he could eat. It was not long before Manners had satisfied his hunger, and in his feverish anxiety he could barely wait to hear Eustace's cheery voice exclaim to the gaoler, "Mat, I have brought thee some ale for letting me in to see the prisoner." "Welcome it is," was the reply, and very soon a stentorian snore announced to the captive that his guardian had fallen into a drunken slumber, and told him that he might venture to set about his work with safety.