shadows revealed a thing that set me suddenly in a fever, first of rage,
and then of apprehension.

As I have said, this gathering-room of our old house was in size like an
ancient banquet hall. It had a gable to itself in breadth and height,
and at the farther end there was a flight of some few steps to reach the
older portion of the house beyond. The upper end of this low stair
pierced the thick wall of the older house, and in the shadows of the
niche thus formed I saw my lady Margery.

She was standing as one who looks and listens; and my rage-fit blazed
out upon the descrying of a shadowy figure of a man behind her; a man I
guessed in jealous wrath to be the baronet--a reasonless suspicion,
since the volunteer captain would certainly have made his presence known
when his colonel had called for him. But while my heart was yet afire my
lady moved aside as if to have a better sight of us below; and then I
saw it was the priest behind her.

While I was watching her, and we were waiting yet upon the
aide-de-camp's return, there was a stir without, and when it reached the
door the sentry challenged. Some confab followed, and I overheard enough
to tell me that a scouting party had come in, bringing a prisoner. The
colonel bade me stand aside, and passed the word to fetch the prisoner
before him. When the thing was done I set my teeth upon a groan. For it
was Richard Jennifer.

Luckily, he did not single me out among the bystanders, being fresh come
from the night without to the glare of candle-light within; and while
the swart-faced colonel plied him with questions I had a chance to look
him up and down. Though his arm was still in its sling, he was seemingly