betake ourselves to the village hostel, and in the morning reproach
them with their churlishness?"

"I must be certified that there is nothing amiss," said Sir Eustace,
springing from his saddle; "I can cross the moat on one of the
supports of the bridge."

"Have with you then, Sir Knight," said Gaston, also leaping to the
ground, while Eustace cautiously advanced along the narrow frame of
wood on which the drawbridge had rested, slippery with the wet, and
rendered still more perilous by the darkness. Gaston followed,
balancing himself with some difficulty, and at last they safely
reached the other side. Eustace tried the heavy gates, but found
them fastened on the inside with a ponderous wooden bar. "Most
strange!" muttered he; "yet come on, Gaston, I can find an entrance,
unless old Ralph be more on the alert than I expect."

Creeping along between the walls and the moat, till they had reached
the opposite side of the Keep, Eustace stopped at a low doorway; a
slight click was heard, as of a latch yielding to his hand, the door
opened, and he led the way up a stone staircase in the thickness of
the wall, warning his follower now and then of a broken step. After
a long steep ascent, Gaston heard another door open, and though still
in total darkness, perceived that they had gained a wider space.
"The passage from the hall to the chapel," whispered the Knight, and
feeling by the wall, they crept along, until a buzz of voices reached
their ears, and light gleamed beneath a heavy dark curtain which
closed the passage. Pausing for an instant, they heard a voice
tremulous with fear and eagerness: "It was himself! tall plume,
bright armour! the very crosslet on his breast could be seen in the