await
thee in the great hall, or, if thou prefer, wilt come to thee here."

The girl paled, more in loathing and contempt than in fear, but the
tones of her answer were calm and level.

"I will see thee below, Sir Peter, anon," and rising, she hastened to
dress, while the receding footsteps of the Baron diminished down the
stairway which led from the tower room in which she was imprisoned.

The old woman attempted to draw her into conversation, but the girl
would not talk. Her whole mind was devoted to weighing each possible
means of escape.

A half hour later, she entered the great hall of the castle of Peter
of Colfax. The room was empty. Little change had been wrought in the
apartment since the days of Ethelwolf. As the girl's glance ranged the
hall in search of her jailer it rested upon the narrow, unglazed windows
beyond which lay freedom. Would she ever again breathe God's pure air
outside these stifling walls? These grimy hateful walls! Black as the
inky rafters and wainscot except for occasional splotches a few shades
less begrimed, where repairs had been made. As her eyes fell upon the
trophies of war and chase which hung there her lips curled in scorn, for
she knew that they were acquisitions by inheritance rather than by the
personal prowess of the present master of Colfax.

A single cresset lighted the chamber, while the flickering light from
a small wood fire upon one of the two great hearths seemed rather to
accentuate the dim shadows of the place.

Bertrade crossed the room and leaned against a massive oak table,
blackened by age and hard usage to the color of the beams above, dented
and nicked by the pounding of huge drinking horns and heavy swords when
wild and lusty brawlers had been moved to applause by the lay of some
wandering minstrel, or the sterner call of their mighty chieftains for
the oath of fealty.

Her wandering eyes took in the dozen benches and the few rude, heavy
chairs which completed the rough furnishings of this rough room, and
she shuddered. One little foot tapped sullenly upon the disordered floor
which was littered with a miscellany of rushes interspread with such
bones and scraps of food as the dogs had rejected or overlooked.

But to none of these surroundings did Bertrade de Montfort give but
passing heed; she looked for the man she sought that she might quickly
have the encounter over and learn what fate the future held in store for
her.

Her quick glance had shown