The duke groaned dismally, and would have come to a halt to beg mercy on
the spot, had not Hubert given him a probe in, the ribs with the point
of his dagger, that sent him on again, with a distracted howl.
"Why, this is a perfect Hades!" said the count, as he stumbled after, in
the darkness. "Are you sure we are going right, Kingsley?"
The inquiry was not unnatural, for the blackness was perfectly
Tartarian, and the soldiers behind were knocking their tall shins
against all sorts of obstacles as they groped blindly along, invoking
from them countless curses, not loud, but deep.
"I don't know whether we are or not," said Sir Norman significantly;
"only, God help him if we're not! Where are you taking us to, you
black-looking bandit?"
"I give you my word of honor, gentlemen," said an imploring voice in
the darkness, "that I'm leading you, by the nearest way, to the Midnight
Court. All I ask of you in return is, that you will let me enter before
you; for if they find that I lead you in, my life will not be worth a
moment's purchase."
"As if it ever was worth it," said Sir Norman, contemptuously. "On with
you, and be thankful I don't save your companions the trouble, by making
an end of you where you stand."
"Rush along, old fellow," suggested Hubert, giving him another poke with
his dagger, that drew forth a second doleful howl.
Notwithstanding the darkness, Sir Norman discovered that they were being
led in a direction exactly opposite that by which he had previously
effected an entrance. They were in the vault, he knew, by the darkness,
though they had descended no stair-case, and he was just wondering
if their guide was not meditating some treachery by such a circuitous
route, when suddenly a tumult of voices, and uproar, and confusion, met
his ear. At the same instant, their guide opened a door, revealing a
dark passage, illuminated by a few rays of light, and which Sir Norman
instantly recognized as that leading to the Black Chamber. Here again
the duke paused, and turned round to them with a wildly-imploring face.
"Gentlemen, I do conjure you to let me enter before you do! I tell you
they will murder me the very instant they discover I have led you here!"
"That would be a great pity!" said the count; "and the gallows will be
cheated of one of its brightest ornaments! That is your den of thieves,
I suppose, from which all this uproar comes?"
"It is. And as I have guided you safely to it, surely I deserve this
trifling boon."
"Trifling, do you call it," interposed Sir Norman, "to let you make
your escape, as you most assuredly will do the moment you are out of our
sight! No, no; we are too old birds to be caught with such chaff; and
though the informer always gets off scot-free, your services deserve no
such boon; for we could have found our way without your help! On with
you, Sir Robber; and if your companions do kill you, console yourself
with the thought that they have only anticipated the executioner by a
few days!"