Manfred ordered the torches to be held up, and perceived that one of the cheeks of the enchanted casque had forced its way through the pavement of the court, as his servants had let it fall over the peasant, and had broken through into the vault, leaving a gap, through which the peasant had pressed himself some minutes before he was found by Isabella. “Was that the way by which thou didst descend?” said Manfred. “It was,” said the youth. “But what noise was that,” said Manfred, “which I heard as I entered the cloister?” “A door clapped,” said the peasant; “I heard it as well as you.” “What door?” said Manfred hastily. “I am not acquainted with your castle,” said the peasant; “this is the first time I ever entered it, and this vault the only part of it within which I ever was.” “But I tell thee,” said Manfred (wishing to find out if the youth had discovered the trap-door), “it was this way I heard the noise. My servants heard it too.” “My Lord,” interrupted one of them officiously, “to be sure it was the trap-door, and he was going to make his escape.” “Peace, blockhead!” said the Prince angrily; “if he was going to escape, how should he come on this side? I will know from his own mouth what noise it was I heard. Tell me truly; thy life depends on thy veracity.” “My veracity is dearer to me than my life,” said the peasant; “nor would I purchase the one by forfeiting the other.” “Indeed, young philosopher!” said Manfred contemptuously; “tell me, then, what was the noise I heard?” “Ask me what I can answer,” said he, “and put me to death instantly if I tell you a lie.” Manfred, growing impatient at the steady valour and indifference of the youth, cried— “Well, then, thou man of truth, answer! Was it the fall of the trap-door that I heard?” “It was,” said the youth. “It was!” said the Prince; “and how didst thou come to know there was a trap-door here?” “I saw the plate of brass by a gleam of moonshine,” replied he. “But what told thee it was a lock?” said Manfred. “How didst thou discover the secret of opening it?” “Providence, that delivered me from the helmet, was able to direct me to the spring of a lock,” said he. “Providence should have gone a little farther, and have placed thee out of the reach of my resentment,” said Manfred. “When Providence had taught thee to open the lock, it abandoned thee for a fool, who did not know how to make use of its favours. Why didst thou not pursue the path pointed out for thy escape? Why didst thou shut the trap-door before thou hadst descended the steps?”