The time passed unbroken with a word; hours it could not be, but whether minutes or seconds I do not know. And somewhere in the heart of my confidence there throbbed a little pricking pain of doubt. For, brother as he was, to me the man was yet a stranger. What if he were of those with whom all means are held lawful to the cherished end? Had not I, but an ignorant girl, done for one end what I had held base indeed for another? And for answer I clung to the stock of my weapon, and swore he should die if His Highness had suffered. For not only Drayton, but Royston honor also lay in the hollow of my hand. But I swore, too, that I would not long survive him; and, if Ned would do it, even death would not be wholly without sweetness.
At last a step was on the stair, and my eyes went again to the little door. And, when I saw his returning face, I laughed aloud.
"You may well laugh, Mistress Philippa," he said, sheathing the sword that had not, I suppose, left his hand since it had leapt from the scabbard on his first doubt of Philip, "for I was indeed a fool to doubt him." Then, turning to Philip: "I did you wrong, Drayton," he said; "the blame must lie on the evil company we did find you in."
"I should myself, I fear, doubt any man in such case," answered Philip.
With that they fell to considering what should be done. Philip was at first for returning to his chamber above. But Ned had already taken his resolution. Sir Michael, he said, should not, in the sweet evening of a life of honor, see his house come to shame. "You cannot, I do suppose," he continued, "bring proof or witness of your innocence in the matter?"
"He that alone could clear me," replied my brother, "is escaped. Moreover, I do not think he bears me any good-will."
"Then you must go," declared Royston, in accents very positive.
And I could not find it in me, for all the risk to him, to say him nay. So without more ado Ned went to the hearth, where, by means I did not till long after understand, he very quickly closed the opening in the wall whence Philip had entered. He next caused to appear, on the opposite side of the fire, a passage that was the counterpart of the first. He then returned to the table, and, pouring out wine from the flagon he had brought for me: "Drink," he said to Philip, "and listen. There is little time to spare, for the officer of the watch will soon go again upon his round. You found but half the secret. There," he said, pointing to the grim aperture in the wall of the hearth, of which the dancing light of the flames served but to mark the deeper gloom, "there is the other half. Descend these stairs and follow the gallery. You cannot miss the way. It will take you out among the rocks below the bridge. Thence follow the stream until you are come to the old mill, whence you may with ease reach the highroad."