Gabriel saw at a glance that the hall was constructed on the usual plan of mediaeval houses, with a minstrels’ gallery at the end nearest the outer door of the mansion, and beneath the gallery two open archways leading through the wooden screen to a passage traversing the house from front to back. Across one of the archways hung a thick crimson curtain, but the archway nearest the main door was exposed to view, the curtain having evidently been half drawn back on the arrival of the midnight guests. He dropped down noiselessly from his post of observation. “The two of them are in there drinking,” he said, in a whisper. “Mistress Helena hath not yet come down. Is there any means of reaching her by the stairs leading to the gallery?” “Ay, sir, the little stone stair leads up to the gallery, and on beyond to the upper rooms,” whispered Amos, his shrewd old face lighting up as he began to hope for a successful issue. “Good; then let us off with our boots, and steal through to the gallery stairs without a sound.” Amos stepped out of his broad low-heeled shoes easily enough, but the high riding-boots and spurs of the two young knights proved a more difficult matter, and Joscelyn Heyworth waxed so merry over their struggles that they came perilously near to an audible laugh. Their preparations made, the gatekeeper led the way up the steps to the main entrance, softly opened the door and admitted them into a flagged passage; a broad stream of light fell athwart the white stones from the archway on the right leading into the hall; they paused a moment before advancing, and to their relief heard that Norton and his companion were talking--under cover of their voices it would be easier to risk the perilous crossing to the stairs. “This fair damsel takes a great deal of rousing,” said the Prince’s messenger. “Doth she intend to make a full toilette before coming down to hear of her father’s plight?” “We won’t grudge her time to doff her nightcap,” said Norton, “for i’ faith, Tom, she hath the prettiest golden locks you ever saw. What shall I tell her of the old Major’s wound? Shot through the lungs, eh? Life hangs on a thread? By the Lord Harry! I only wish it did,” and he laughed boisterously. Taking advantage of this noise, Gabriel put his hand on old Amos’ arm and walked swiftly past the archway, and on beyond to the spiral staircase which lay concealed behind a door in the wainscot. “What’s that?” exclaimed Norton, “I thought I saw a shadow in the passage.” “Patience, man,” said the other. “’Twas doubtless the fellow that let us in. I faith I begin to think your love for this pretty maid is hotter than most of your fancies. She will come all in good time; I drink to the success of your enterprise!” “And I drink to fair Mistress Nell, the Queen of my heart!” said Norton.