"No name is necessary," she answered, looking at the man and pointing with her finger. "I seek thy master and come not to parley with his menial. Go! Say a lady would speak with him." The servant read in the girl's eye a look which seemed to brook neither delay nor familiarity, for he turned and went along the passage and up the stairway. As Elinor waited, the utter hopelessness of her mission broke full upon her, but it was now too late to draw back from her hasty act; the voice of Winter could be heard exclaiming with a laugh: "What, a lady to see me at this hour? Troth, I am fatigued, but never so weary that I cannot look upon a fair face. Admit her." A door opened and closed; the servant reappeared and beckoned her. "Sir Thomas will see thee; 'tis the third portal from the landing," he said, pointing up the stairs leading to the floor above. As Elinor followed the directions given, she endeavored to frame some fitting sentence with which to begin her interview, but her agitation was too great; she could think of none. Arriving before the door she tapped with her fingers upon the panel. "Enter, my pretty one," cried a voice. "Thou hast already been announced." She stepped within the chamber. Winter sat with his back toward the entrance facing a table upon which stood a flagon of wine. As the door closed he turned, and to her horror Elinor saw that he was flushed with strong drink. "What? Elinor?" exclaimed Winter, in astonishment, rising from the chair with such haste that it was overturned and fell with a clatter to the floor. "I crave thy pardon, Mistress Fawkes," he continued with a bow, mastering his surprise. "Thy sudden entrance caused my tongue to utter the name that ever dwells within my heart. Pray tell me to what happy circumstance am I indebted for the honor of this visit? I would know the same that I may render homage to it." Elinor stood speechless, filled with abhorrence and dread. All her bravery could scarce keep her from flying out of the room. She endeavored to fix her mind on the purpose which had brought her here, and so find courage. At last desperation gave her voice and she began hurriedly: "I know that thou and others were at my father's house this night. I was not asleep as ye all supposed, and have come to beg, to beseech, pray, that my father be released from this terrible treason which hath been talked of. Thou wert the only one to whom I could turn for aid--I trust to thy goodness, to thy noble nature;--for the love of God tell me not that I come in vain. See--see," she cried hysterically, her self control gone and falling upon her knees. "I kneel before thee to crave this boon."