"I am lost if the villains have lighted on the secret of the Nest!" the endangered nobleman exclaimed, in sudden realization and despair. "Oh why, why did I not bethink me that I might not be able to close it--through some weakness of the old apparatus? The chase is up!" The next moment the shine of candles below the folds of the arras--the loud banter and laughter of Jermain--broken sentences from Boyd--came all within a few yards' length, as the quintet stood within the Purple Chamber. The young man crouched down. His teeth were set to meet the extreme of his peril. The perspiration oozed from his forehead. "Once for all, gentlemen," came the angry tones of Gilbert Boyd, amid the scuffling of feet, "I swear to you that no hand but mine shall ever, with my consent, disclose this secret place, however near it may lie to us--and, as I live, it shall not be so disclosed this night!" "Oh, but it must be, and shall be!" retorted Jermain, more delighted than ever at prolonging and enjoying the old Master's concern; "away with your silly family pride, Boyd! You have too much sense for it." "We'll never tell, Boyd," said Dawkin; "will we, Roxley? Oh, 'tis rare sport!" "Never," assented Roxley; "hold up the candles, Andrew, that we may all guess at the very spot." "Beware, gentlemen, how you tempt my patience further! Surely, you see that I am past the humor for such folly! Leave the room with me, Captain Jermain! I command it--I adjure you all, by the laws of hospitality and courtesy----" "Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the three tormentors. Had they been less influenced by the excellent cheer at the table just quitted, one or all of them must have by this suspected a deeper motive for Boyd's recusancy. But, as it was, it all was taken with the other details of the scene--an obstinate and proud Scotch householder, unwilling to share a petty secret with some gay guests. "And I--I adjure you," mimicked Jermain, "by the laws of hospitality and courtesy, not to cross my pleasure so peevishly. Ay, there is the chimney! Lockett particularized the chimney. Behind the corner of the arras, just about where that figure of the Prodigal Son is worked, must lie the plate set in the angle of the stone----" Lord Armitage stiffened his muscles. "If I had only caught up one of those stools yonder, the battle should begin from _my_ side!" he grimly reflected. "Stay--I must not give them one extra inch of vantage. I will creep into yonder farthest corner--lay hand on a stool, crouch--and wait for them!" "Oh, merciful God!" thought, or rather prayed Andrew, on the other side, clutching the candles and white as one who swoons. "Does he hear? What can he do? Save him, save him, O Lord--for only thou canst preserve him or us now." Dawkin made for the chimney-jamb, exclaiming: "Come, I'll draw back the Prodigal from his husks!"