After quitting De Gondomar, as before related, Sir Jocelyn hurried along
Holborn with the intention of proceeding to Aveline's cottage, which was
at no great distance from Ely House, though in a secluded situation,
withdrawn from the road; and he was just about to strike into the narrow
lane leading to it, when he was arrested by the voice of Clement
Lanyere, who had followed him, unobserved.
"Stay, Sir Jocelyn, I beg of you," cried the promoter, coming quickly up
to him; "you are rushing on certain destruction. You must not go nigh
that cottage to-day; no, nor for several days to come. Foes are lying in
ambush round it; and the only spectacle you will afford her you love
will be that of your arrest."
There was an earnestness in the speaker's manner that could not fail to
carry conviction of his sincerity to the breast of his hearer.
"By my soul, I speak the truth," said Lanyere, perceiving the impression
he had made, "as you will find if you go many steps further. Place
yourself in my hands, and I will save you."
"What motive can you have for acting thus?" demanded Sir Jocelyn. "What
interest do you take in me?"
"Do not question me now: you shall have full explanation hereafter. Be
satisfied I am a friend,--perchance your best friend. Come with me, and
I will take you to a place of safety."
"But what is to happen to Aveline?" cried the young knight, in deep
anxiety.
"I will endeavour to watch over her," replied the promoter; "and I trust
no harm will befall her. At all events, you will deprive yourself of the
power of rendering her any protection, if you are rash enough to go
forward now."
Struck by the force of these remarks, our young knight felt he had no
alternative but to submit to circumstances, and he accordingly agreed to
accept the aid proffered him by his mysterious friend. But it was not
without feelings of intense anguish that he turned away from the path
leading to the little secluded cottage containing all he held dear, and
followed his conductor, who seemed resolved to allow him no time for
further hesitation, but proceeding at a rapid pace towards the west till
he reached Broad Saint Giles's--then a rural village--and entered a
small tavern, bearing the sign of "The Rose and Crown," the landlord of
which appeared to have an understanding with the promoter, for at a sign
from him, he immediately ushered his guests into a chamber up-stairs,
and without saying a word, left them alone together.
"Here you will be secure and undisturbed," said Lanyere; "and all your
wants will be cared for by my trusty ally, Barnabas Boteler; but, for
your own sake, you must consent to remain a close prisoner, till I bring
you word that you may go forth with safety. I must now leave you, having
much to do, and must defer the explanations I design to give you to a
more convenient season. Be not uneasy if you should not see me for a few
days, as circumstances may prevent my coming to you. When I next appear,
I trust it may be to bring you good tidings. Till then, farewell."
And without waiting for any reply from Sir Jocelyn, he hastily departed.
Left alone, our young knight did the best he could to reconcile himself
to the strange situation in which he was placed. He was naturally full
of anxiety, both on his own account, and on that of Aveline; yet, on
calm reflection, he felt satisfied he had acted for the best, and that,
in accepting the protection of the mysterious individual who seemed bent
upon directing his fortunes, he had followed the dictates of prudence.
Barnabas Boteler attended him in person, and suffered no one else to
come near him; but though the worthy host seemed anxious to anticipate
his wants in every particular, his manner was reserved, and, in Sir
Jocelyn's opinion, he had something of the look of a jailor, and this
notion was strengthened when he found himself locked in his room.
Probably this was only done as a precautionary measure by the host; and
as the window was at no great height from the ground, and he could
descend from it when he chose, he gave himself no great concern about
the matter.
In this way three days passed by without anything occurring to break the
monotony of his wearisome confinement,--not even a visit from Clement
Lanyere. To Sir Jocelyn's inquiries concerning him, the host professed
utter inability to give a precise answer, but said that he might arrive
at any moment. As he did not appear, however, on the fourth day, Sir
Jocelyn's patience got quite worn out, and his uneasiness respecting
Aveline having become insupportable, he determined, at all hazards, on
visiting her cottage. Without acquainting the host with his intention,
or asking to have the door unfastened, he opened the window which looked
into a garden at the back of the house, and sprang from it. His furtive
departure did not appear to be noticed, and he soon gained the road, and
took the direction of Aveline's dwelling.