"Nothing! Where did they carry her to? What did they do with her? Go on! go on!""Well," said the watchman, eyeing the speaker curiously, "I'm going to.They went along, down to the river, both of them, and I saw a boat shove off, shortly after, and that something, with its head in a shawl, lying as peaceable as a lamb, with one of the two beside it.That's all - I went asleep about then, till you two were shaking me and waking me up."Sir Norman and Hubert looked at each other, one between despair and rage, the other with s thoughtful, half-inquiring air, as if he had some secret to tell, and was mentally questioning whether it was safe to do so.On the whole, he seemed to come to the conclusion, that a silent tongue maketh a wise head, and nodding and saying "Thank you!" to the watchman, he passed his arm through Sir Norman's, and drew him back to the door of Leoline's house.
"There is a light within," he said, looking up at it; "how comes that?""I found the lamp burning, when I returned, and everything undisturbed.They must have entered noiselessly, and carried her off without a straggle," replied Sir Norman, with a sort of groan,"Have you searched the house - searched it well?""Thoroughly - from top to bottom!"
"It seems to me there ought to be some trace.Will you come back with me and look again?""It is no use; but there in nothing else I can do; so come along!"They entered the house, and Sir Norman led the page direct to Leoline's room, where the light was.
"I left her here when I went away, and here the lamp was burning when I came back: so it must have been from this room she was taken."Hubert was gazing slowly and critically round, taking note of everything.Something glistened and flashed on the floor, under the mantel, and he went over and picked it up.
"What have you there?" asked Sir Norman in surprise; for the boy had started so suddenly, and flushed so violently, that it might have astonished any one.
"Only a shoe-buckle - a gentleman's - do you recognize it?"Though he spoke in his usual careless way, and half-hummed the air of one of Lord Rochester's love songs, he watched him keenly as he examined it.It was a diamond buckle, exquisitely set, and of great beauty and value; but Sir Norman knew nothing of it.
"There are initials upon it -see there!" said Hubert, pointing, and still watching him with the same powerful glance."The letters C.S.That can't stand for Count L'Estrange.""Who then can it stand for?" inquired Sir Norman, looking at him fixedly, and with far more penetration than the court page had given him credit for."I am certain you know.""I suspect!" said the boy, emphatically, "nothing more; and if it is as I believe, I will bring you news of Leoline before you are two hours older.""How am I to know you are not deceiving me, and will not betray her into the power of the Earl of Rochester - if, indeed, she be not in his power already.""She is not in it, and never will be through me! I feel an odd interest in this matter, and I will be true to you, Sir Norman -though why I should be, I really don't know.I give you my word of honor that I will do what I can to find Leoline and restore her to you; and I have never yet broken my word of honor to any man," said Hubert, drawing himself up.
"Well, I will trust you, because I cannot do anything better,"said Sir Norman, rather dolefully; "but why not let me go with you?""No, no! that would never do! I must go alone, and you must trust me implicitly.Give me your hand upon it."They shook hands silently, went down stairs, and stood for a moment at the door.
"You'll find me here at any hour between this and morning," said Sir Norman."Farewell now, and Heaven speed you!"The boy waved his hand in adieu, and started off at a sharp pace.
Sir Norman turned in the opposite direction for a short walk, to cool the fever in his blood, and think over all that had happened.As be went slowly along, in the shadow of the houses, he suddenly tripped up over something lying in his path, and was nearly precipitated over it.
Stooping down to examine the stumbling-block, it proved to be the rigid body of a man, and that man was Ormiston, stark and dead, with his face upturned to the calm night-sky.
