Cardiff Castle
that night; and no member of the household, except the wearied Bertram
Lyngern, thought of sleep. Maude was busied in making up money and
jewels into numberless small packages, under the orders of the Dowager,
to be concealed on the persons of Le Despenser and his attendant squire.
The intention of her master was to take passage on some boat bound for
Ireland, and thence to escape into Scotland or France.

Le Despenser slept late into the morning--no wonder for a man who had
scarcely been out of his saddle for six days and nights. The
preparations for the continuation of his flight were nearly completed;
but he had not yet been disturbed, when a strange horn was heard outside
the fosse of the Castle. Constance, who had risen early, and was in an
excited state of mind, hastily opened a lattice to hear who was the
visitor.

"Who goes there?" demanded the warder's deep voice.

"Sir William Hankeford, Justice of the King's Bench, bearing his
Highness' warrant. Open quickly!"

There could be no question as to his object--the arrest of Le Despenser.
Constance breathlessly shut the window, bade Maude sweep the little
packets of jewellery and coin into her pocket, dashed into her bower,
and awoke her still slumbering husband.

"Rise, my Lord, this instant! Harry of Bolingbroke hath sent to take
you. We must hide you some whither."

Le Despenser was almost too tired and depressed to care for
apprehension.

"Whither, my Lady?" he asked hopelessly. "Better yield, maybe."

"_Ninerias_!" [Nonsense!--literally, _childishness_] cried Constance
hastily, using a word of her mother's tongue, which she had frequently
heard from the lips of Dona Juana. And springing to the wardrobe in the
ante-chamber, she was back in a second, with a thick furred winter gown.

"Lo' you, my Lord! Lap you in this, and--"

And Constance glanced round the room for a safe hiding-place.

"And!"--said Le Despenser, smiling sadly, but doing as he was requested.

"Go up the chimney!" said Constance hurriedly. "They will never look
there, and there is little warmth in yon ashes."

She caught up the shovel, and flung a quantity of cinders on the almost
extinct fire. The idea was not a bad one. The chimney was as wide as a
small closet; there were several rests for the sweep; and at one side
was a little chamber hollowed out, specially intended for some such
emergency as the present. With the help of the two ladies and Mau