"Safe from one at least," said Robin, jumping in ecstasy, but yet
speaking in a subdued voice. "I would know the neigh of that black steed
amid a thousand; its tone is like that of a trumpet, mightiest among its
kind. I feel as if the weight of a hundred stone was off my heart--don't
you?"
Dalton replied not, for he was fearlessly striding towards the house,
not, as before, sneaking among the bushes.
"Let us to the window, Captain," said Robin.
"Not I," he replied. "What care I for any of them now? I shall
demand Walter from Sir Robert."
"You are foolhardy. What can be done quietly, ought to be done quietly.
If we cannot succeed so, why dare both Sir Robert and Sir Willmott?"
"I believe you are right, though I hate sailing on a lee-shore. The
open, open sea, for my money! Hark ye! Cecil dare not refuse me this."
"Or any thing else, I suspect--though I know not why," replied Robin, as
he commenced climbing by the creeping plants to the prison-window,
beneath which they now stood. "How delighted he will be to see my ugly
face, poor fellow!"
Robin continued muttering broken sentences all the while he ascended,
having previously arranged with the Buccaneer that he was to remain
below. "Ah! firm footing this old ivy. There, now we are up!--Master
Walter! Master Walter!--He sleeps behind that screen, I warrant me,
little thinking of his faithful friends. So, so! the rust has done its
duty. Strong room! strong walls they mean; but what signify strong walls
without strong windows?--Good! There goes another, and another--better
still! And now----"
He entered the chamber, passed to the front of the screen, opened the
large cupboard, cast his eyes upon the untrimmed lamp, and then
perceived that the door was slightly ajar; but no vestige remained of
Walter De Guerre, except his cloak, that was flung over the chair. His
first movement was to close and bolt the door, and then call softly to
the Buccaneer to ascend.
"He is gone!" exclaimed Robin with a trembling voice, as Dalton entered
the room.
"Gone!" repeated the Skipper: "then is there treachery. My brave boy,
that I loved as my own son! By Heavens! I'll rouse the house! Had it not
been for my accursed plots, he would not have come over. I'll have him
delivered up to me, did Sir Robert plan his destruction as skilfully as
he plotted that of----"