ar boy, you have not
considered all this."

"Yes, Sir Henry, I have considered it all," said Hilary firmly; "and
though you are angry now, I am sure that the time will come when you
will respect me for being faithful to my king, just as you would have
learned to despise me if I had broken my word."

Sir Henry did not reply, but turned short upon his heel and walked to
the door, rapped loudly till the key was turned, and then without
glancing at Hilary again he left the place.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

HILARY'S WAY OF ESCAPE.

Hilary stood in the centre of the old chapel, gazing at the closed door,
and listening to the rattle of the bolts. He was full of regrets, for,
left early an orphan, he had been in the habit of looking up to Sir
Henry somewhat in the way that a boy would regard a father; and he was
grieved to the heart to think that so old and dear a friend should look
upon him as an ingrate.

But at the same time he felt lighter at heart, and there was the
knowledge to support him that he had done his duty at a very trying
time.

"I should have felt that every right-thinking man had looked down upon
me," he said, half aloud, "and little Adela would have been ashamed when
she knew all, to call me friend."

He stood with his eyes still fixed upon the door thinking, and now his
thoughts were mingled with bitter feelings, for he was still a prisoner
at the mercy of a set of lawless men, Sir Henry being no doubt merely a
visitor here, and possessed of but little authority.

"And I know too much for them to let me go and bring a few of our lads
to rout out their nest," he said, half aloud. "Never mind, they won't
dare to kill me, unless it is by accident," he added grimly, and then he
ran to the window to see if Adela were in sight.

Practice had made him nimble now, and leaping up, he caught the bars,
drew himself into the embrasure, and peered between the bars.

"Pst! Adela!" he cried eagerly, for he could just see her light dress
between the trees.

She looked up, and came running towards the window, looking bright and
happy, and there was an eager light in her eyes.

"Why, Hil!" she cried. "I did not think you would be there now. Papa
said he thought you would soon be at liberty, and that perhaps you would
stay with us a little while before you went away."

"And should you like me to stay with you?" he said, gazing down.

"Oh, yes; so much!" she said naively. "This old place is so dull and