When Sir Jocelyn again became conscious, he found he had been
transported to a different cell, which, in comparison with the "Stone
Coffin," was clean and comfortable. The walls were of stone, and the
pallet on which he was laid was of straw, but the place was dry, and
free from the noisome effluvium pervading the lower dungeon. The
consideration shown him originated in the conviction on the part of the
deputy-warden, that the young man must die if left in his wounded state
in that unwholesome vault, and so the removal took place, in spite of
the objections raised to it by Sir Giles Mompesson, who would have
willingly let him perish. But Master Tunstall dreaded an inquiry, as the
prisoner had not yet been sentenced by the Council.
After glancing round his cell, and endeavouring recal the events that
had conducted him to it, Sir Jocelyn tried to raise himself, but found
his limbs so stiff that he could not accomplish his object, and he sank
back with a groan. At this moment the door opened, and Grimbald,
accompanied by a repulsive-looking personage, with a face like a
grinning mask, advanced towards the pallet.
"This is the wounded man, Master Luke Hatton," said the jailer; "you
will exert your best skill to cure him; and you must use dispatch, in
case he should be summoned before the Council."
"The Council must come to him if they desire to interrogate him now,"
replied Luke Hatton; adding, after he had examined the injuries received
by the young knight, "He is badly hurt, but not so severely as I
expected. I will undertake to set him upon his legs in three days. I did
as much for Sir Giles Mompesson, and he was wounded in the same manner."
"Why, this is the young knight who struck down Sir Giles at the jousts,"
said Grimbald. "Strange! you should have two mortal enemies to deal
with."
"Is this Sir Jocelyn Mounchensey?" inquired Luke Hatton, with apparent
curiosity. "You did not tell me so before."
"Perhaps I ought not to have told you so now," returned the other. "But
do you take any interest in him?"
"Not much," replied the apothecary; "but I have heard his name often
mentioned of late. You need not be uneasy about this young man being
summoned before the Star-Chamber. The great case of the Countess of
Exeter against Lady Lake comes on before the King and the Lords of the
Council to-morrow or next day, and it will occupy all their attention.
They will have no time for aught else."
"What think you will be the judgment in that case?" inquired Grimbald.
"I have my own opinion," returned the apothecary, with a significant
smile; "but I care not to reveal it. I am a witness in the case myself,
and something may depend on my evidence. You asked me just now whether I
took any interest in this young man. I will tell you what surprised me
to find him here. Sir Francis Mitchell has taken it into his head to rob
him of his intended bride."
"Ah! indeed!" exclaimed the jailer, with a laugh. "The old dotard does
not mean to marry her?"
"By my troth but he does--and the wedding is to be a grand one. I will
tell you more about it anon."
At this moment Sir Jocelyn, who had hitherto remained with his eyes
closed, uttered a cry of anguish, and again vainly endeavoured to raise
himself.
"Aveline married to Sir Francis?" he cried. "Said you she was to be
forced into a union with that hoary miscreant? It must be prevented."
"I see not how it can be, Sir Jocelyn," replied Luke Hatton, "since she
is in the power of Sir Giles Mompesson. Besides which, the 'hoary
miscreant,' as you style him, will take means to ensure her
acquiescence."
"Means! what means?" demanded Sir Jocelyn, writhing in agony.
"A love-potion," replied Luke Hatton, calmly, "I am about to prepare a
philter for her, and will answer for its effect. She will be the old
knight's, and without opposition."
"Infernal villain! and that I should be lying here, unable to give her
aid!"
And overcome by the intensity of his emotion, as well as by acute bodily
suffering, Sir Jocelyn relapsed into insensibility.
He was not, however, suffered to remain long in this state. Stimulants
applied by Luke Hatton soon restored him to consciousness. The first
object his gaze fell upon was the apothecary, and he was about to vent
his fury upon him in words, when the latter, cautiously raising his
finger to his lips, said in a whisper--"I am a friend. Grimbald is only
at the door, and a single exclamation on your part will betray me." He
then leaned down, and bringing his lips almost close to the young
knight's ear, whispered--"What I said before the jailer was correct. I
have been applied to by Sir Francis for a philter to be administered to
Mistress Aveline, and I have promised it to him; but I am secretly in
the service of Clement Lanyere, and will defeat the old usurer's
villainous designs."
Sir Jocelyn could not repress a cry of delight, and Grimbald entered the
cell.