Lost in thought, De Ermstein waved his hand involuntarily; and the jailor, taking that to be a sign for the removal of the prisoner, hurried him away.
The attendants hovered about for some minutes, and then noiselessly left the hall, leaving their lord standing solitary on the _dais_.
A light footstep approached, and, looking up, Sir Dacre beheld his lady. She was in great agitation, and came up to his chair, and, taking him by the hand, said:
"I have," answered Sir Dacre. "I could, in justice, pronounce no other doom."
"I beheld him through yonder window," she said, "and never did I behold a nobler-looking youth. With what grace and courage he confronted you; what emotion in his countenance; what defiance in his tone. Such a youth must not die so shameful a death. I thought, as I looked upon him, of our own boy."
"Peace, Alice; you kindle afresh the embers of pain," cried Sir Dacre. "Recall not the memory of that one dread sorrow which has for ever destroyed our happiness."
"Grant me this captive's life," she cried passionately.
"I plead and pray that he may be spared to forsake his evil career, and seek his fortune in some honourable path. It is hard that so young and so noble a stranger should die, and by our hands. Give him life, husband, though you may not give him liberty. His life is the boon I crave. Deny me not."
"I would deny it, Alice, to the mother that bore him," said De Ermstein, with stern composure, "though she pled for him on her bended knees. I dare not suffer such a villain to live. Did I spare him, I might be accused of participation in his crimes. Plead for him no more; I am inexorable. I am steeled against pity."
"The last, the fatal hour is come That bears my love from me; I hear the death-note of the drum, I mark the gallows tree. The bell has toll'd; it shakes my heart; The trumpet speaks thy name; And must my Gilderoy depart To bear a death of shame?" --_Campbell._
The watery sun of the third morning slowly dispelled the mists that filled the vale of Warkcliff. Although the day was only yet in its infancy, one would have thought, from seeing the crowd, that all the denizens of the village and all the peasantry from the surrounding domains had gathered in the open market place. Great numbers of the rustics were armed; and parties of troopers, in De Ermstein's pay, pranced up and down, quelling disturbance, and maintaining order.