An hour's labour proved very unsatisfactory, for the wall was much harder than he had antic.i.p.ated, and in spite of the goodwill with which he worked, the injuries he had received the day before seriously r.e.t.a.r.ded his efforts.

Eustace, however, was working with more success on the other side, and in a couple more hours a hole, sufficiently wide for Manners to creep through, had been made, and in a few more minutes Dorothy's betrothed was a free man again, urging his steed to the utmost, to fetch help from Haddon, and to capture the miscreant knight who had effected so much evil.

CHAPTER XXV.

THE LAST OF DE LA ZOUCH.

Face to face with the past he stands, With guilty soul, and blood-stained hands; And his deeds rise up against him.

Too weak to win, he cannot fly, He begs for life and fears to die, But justice overtakes him.

The second day's search for Dorothy proved as ineffectual as the first, and yielding with ill grace to the counsel of his friends, Sir George Vernon submitted to retire from active search, and agreed to remain at Haddon while others scoured the country round for the truants.

"It is of no use," said the baron, "I cannot sleep. I shall not attempt it to-night either. It is enough that I should consent to stay at home."

"But you must have rest," expostulated Stanley, "or you will quickly break down under the strain."

"I shall stay here, I tell you," was the dogged reply, "and receive the reports as they come in. There are four or five out yet."

"Has Crowleigh returned?" asked Sir Thomas abruptly.

"Not yet; may he bring her back."

"'Tis most queer," soliloquised the young knight. "I cannot understand it, I confess. Do you suspect him, Sir George?"

"No, I don't," he replied, bluntly, "do you?"

"I do now. I suspect the whole lot of them; and that Manners and De la Zouch are at heart at daggers drawn."

"And Doll?"

"As for her," continued Sir Thomas, demurely; "she is far too fond of Manners. I thought we should have trouble with her, for she has a stubborn will."

"Like Lady Maude," exclaimed Sir George sententiously, "but go! Leave me alone; you must be in the saddle early in the morning, and you at all events require rest."

"Will nothing shake your determination?" pursued Stanley, as he looked in unfeigned pity at the toil-worn, care-riven brow of the unfortunate baron. "You will make yourself far worse else."

"I shall sit and wait. Send me in Father Nicholas, for he alone shall bear me company."

"Well, well," he replied, "I would persuade thee if I could Sir George, but since I cannot do that I will go, but you should rest,"

and leaving these words to ring in the baron's ears, the young n.o.bleman retired to his couch and left the baron alone.

The sun had not long risen ere he was with Sir George Vernon again.

His horse was ready to carry him once more upon the search, and he himself was ready for the ride. He had expected to find the baron asleep, but in this he was disappointed, for Sir George sat beside the table deep in converse with the priest. Crowleigh had returned, and so had the rest, but their tales were alike despondent; none of them had discovered a trace, and good Father Nicholas had found it a difficult task under the circ.u.mstances to revive the drooping spirit of his master.

"No luck, Sir Thomas, naught but ill news," said the baron, as he replied to his friend's greeting; "'tis an ill wind this. There is never a trace as yet, and----"

"Hist!" interrupted Margaret's lover. "I hear the sounds of galloping hoofs."

Sir George opened the cas.e.m.e.nt window, and peered out into the gloom.

"I cannot see them yet," he exclaimed, "but there are more than one, and they are nearing fast. If it should be Dorothy," he said with a sigh of intense feeling; "what joy!"

"Aye, there are more than one," said Stanley. "We cannot see them here. Hark, they are thundering at the gate even now; let us go and meet them, and heaven grant, whoever it may be, that they bring good news."

"Amen," e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the baron fervently, and his prayer was echoed by the rest.

Before they could reach the gate, the horseman had been admitted; and as Sir George and his friends stepped into the yard they recognised--not the features of Sir Edward Stanley, as Margaret's lover secretly thought, but the well-known form of Manners.

"How!--by my halidame, what meaneth this?" exclaimed the baron, delighted beyond measure to see the esquire again. "Tell me, Manners, where my Dorothy is?"

"Speak fair words," cautioned Stanley, with a frown.

"Dorothy!" gasped her lover. "Hasten, I beseech thee. She is at Ashby.

Where is De la Zouch, the villain?"

"On his way home," answered Sir Thomas.

Manners groaned aloud.

"Heaven forfend us, then," he cried. "He is a monster of iniquity. We must hasten back, an you would rescue Dorothy."

"There is some conspiracy in this," exclaimed Stanley. "Here is De la Zouch's page lurking behind these horses. Come hither, sirrah, for I recognise thee well. 'Twere a bold thing of thee to venture on so rash an errand here."

Eustace was pushed unwillingly forward, and as he stood before the knight his knees knocked together under the terrible frowns that were bestowed upon him.

"Nay, it is right," expostulated Manners. "Leave him alone, Sir Thomas, he will be of service to us yet."

"But where is Dorothy?" asked the impatient baron. "What has become of her? Why does she not return with thee?"

"De la Zouch waylaid us," answered the esquire, "and we fell into his trap. I have ridden hard from Ashby since the sun last set. I escaped his dungeon by the aid of this, his page, to save poor Dorothy. I am faint from my bruises and hard riding. Cannot you believe me?"

"Sir Henry," replied the baron, with a sneer. "Sir Henry told us a similar story, but then it was you who had waylaid him."

"The villain!" groaned Manners, "I will have revenge."

"That's just what he called you," said Sir Thomas, promptly. "Two of a trade never agree."

"My master felled Master Manners to the ground himself," interposed the page; "or rather, I mean he struck him senseless while he lay injured on the ground."

"And he carried Doll away to his castle," said Manners. "I shall avenge her, though. I can understand your suspicions now, and forgive you, for De la Zouch has played you false as well as me, and has returned to his castle now to reap the reward of his villainy. I shall pursue him, though. He sought my life, defamed my name, imprisoned me, and now he has gone when I get here. Eustace," he added, turning to the page, "let us return; I will gather friends of my own with which to rescue her, and I shall be strong till I have met and paid my enemy. G.o.d grant we may yet be in time. Crowleigh, you believe me? You will come, and, mayhap, we may intercept him ere his journey's end, for he cannot long be gone."

"Nay, nay, man; stay and have thy wound attended to," said the baron sympathetically. "Thou'rt honest, I would swear."

"And yesterday he seemed well nigh dead," said Eustace, referring to Manners. "Sure I am he can ride no longer. We rode hard here, and well I trow his wound--"