His suspense sank into depression as the night advanced, and, from the unlooked-for delay, he began to fear that Inez had been unable, by her own unaided efforts, to bring the design which they had concerted into effect. While, however, he was yet pondering on his not unreasonable fear, he thought that he heard footsteps approaching. The matter was not long doubtful; for, before he could well be said to be listening, he heard the massy bolts of the dungeon-door shot back; and by the time he had sprung to his feet (which he did almost instantaneously), the door was thrown open. Two persons entered, one of whom, from the light which he carried in his hand, Hildebrand perceived to be the gaoler; and he supposed the other to be his expected ally. His supposition was shortly confirmed; for the cavalier, having taken the lamp from the gaoler, came more into the light, and, on near inspection, was seen to wear the guise and appointments of a gentleman. He was, as Inez had described him, a mere stripling, and seemed to have scarcely seen his sixteenth year. But it was more by his face that his youth was apparent, in his present attire, than by his form. So far as the latter could be seen, through the fall of his deep-brown cloak, it was round and full, and almost matured. At the waist, it is true, it was slender in the extreme; but the broad volume of his chest, and the full and graceful outline of his shoulders, which could be traced on the outside of his cloak, showed that he was well proportioned, and, at a little distance, might be thought to be verging on manhood. His face was almost too beautiful for a man’s; and its resemblance to that of Inez, especially about the nose and eyes, was so striking, that Hildebrand discerned it directly. He wore a light moustache above his mouth, and under his nether lip, where it fell into the chin, a subordinate imperial. But it was his movements, more than anything else, that fixed attention; for his step was like light, and, in its carriage of his person, displayed a grace and dignity surpassing man’s. It will readily be supposed, from this description, that, however greatly the cavalier might excite Hildebrand’s admiration, his appearance was not calculated to inspire him with a reasonable hope that he would be able to afford him any succour. Hildebrand conceived such an impression of him on the instant. The high expectations that he had entertained were dissipated, and, now that he seemed to have reached a crisis, his heart turned cold with despair. But he had no time to follow up his gloomy reflections. He had hardly effected his survey of the stranger’s person, by which the feeling described had been prompted, when that individual, without knowing how his thoughts were occupied, drew his attention to other matters. “Thou mayst retire,” he said to the gaoler.