well have cried from the bottom
of the sea.

After what seemed fully another week of waiting, the guard again came
with bread and water. By that time my mind had cleared. I asked the
guard to deliver a message to my Lord d'Hymbercourt and offered a large
reward for the service. I begged him to say to Hymbercourt that his
friends of The Mitre had been arrested and were now in prison. The
guard willingly promised to deliver my message, but he did not keep his
word, though I repeated my request many times and promised him any
reward he might name when I should regain my liberty. With each visit he
repeated his promise, but one day he laughed and said I was wasting
words; that he would never see the reward and that in all probability I
should never again see the light of day. His ominous words almost
prostrated me, though again I say I suffered chiefly for Max's sake.
Could I have gained his liberty at the cost of my life, nay, even my
soul, I should have been glad to do it.

But I will not further describe the tortures of my imprisonment. The
greatest of them all was my ignorance of Max's fate. It was a frightful
ordeal, and I wonder that my reason survived it.

CHAPTER X

THE HOUSE UNDER THE WALL

To leave Max and myself in our underground dungeon, imprisoned for an
unknown, uncommitted crime, while I narrate occurrences outside our
prison walls looks like a romancer's trick, but how else I am to go
about telling this history I do not know. Yolanda is quite as important
a personage in this narrative as Max and myself, and I must tell of her
troubles as I learned of them long afterwards.

Castleman reached home ten days or a fortnight after our arrest,
bringing with him his precious silks, velvets, and laces to the last
ell. As he had predicted, they were quadrupled in value, and their
increase made the good burgher a very rich man.

Soon after Castleman reached the House under the Wall, Yolanda came
dancing into the room where he was sitting with good Frau Katherine,
drinking a bottle of rich Burgundy wine well mixed with pepper
and honey.

"Ah, uncle," she cried joyously, "at last you are at home, and I have a
fine kiss for you."

"Thank you, my dear," said Castleman, "you have spoiled my wine. The
honey will now taste vinegarish."

"You are a flatterer, uncle--isn't he, tante?" laughed Yolanda, turning
to Aunt Castleman.

"I am afraid he is," said the good frau, in mock distress. "Every one
tries to