"Are you ready?" she said, and he nodded, his eyes fixed upon her, and he followed her along the drive to the keep. She had a moment of misgiving, for she realised suddenly that perhaps, like other actors, he lacked confidence in his part, and would stumble over his words, and the game would be lost because William, upon whom so much depended, had no skill. As they stood before the closed door of the keep she looked at him, and tapped him on the shoulder, and for the first time that evening he smiled, his small eyes twinkling in his round face, and her faith in him returned, for he would not fail.
He had become, in a moment, the physician, and as he knocked upon the door of the keep, he called, in full round tones surprisingly unlike the William she knew at Navron: "Is there one Zachariah Smith within, and may Doctor Williams from Helston have a word with him?"
Dona could hear an answering shout from the keep, and in a moment the door swung open, and there was her friend the guard standing on the threshold, his jacket thrown aside because of the heat, his sleeves rolled high above his elbows, and a grin on his face from ear to ear.
"So her ladyship didn't forget her promise?" he said. "Well, come inside, sir, you are very welcome, and we have enough ale here, I tell you, to christen the baby and yourself into the bargain. Was it a boy?"
"It was indeed, my friend," said William, "a fine boy, and the image of his lordship." He rubbed his hands together, as though in satisfaction, and followed the jailer within, while the door was left ajar, so that Dona, crouching beside the wall of the keep, could hear them move about the entrance, and she could hear too the clink of glasses, and the laughter of the guard. "Well, sir," he was saying, "I've fathered fourteen and I may say I know the business as well as you. What was the weight of the child?"
"Ah," said William, "the weight now… let me see," and Dona, choking back her laughter, could picture him standing there, his brows drawn together in perplexity, ignorant as a baby himself would be at such a question. "Round about four pounds I should say, though I cannot recollect the exact figure…" he began, and there came a whistle of astonishment from the jailer, and a burst of laughter from his assistant.
"Do you call that a fine boy?" he said, "why, curse me, sir, the child will never live. My youngest turned the scale at eleven pounds when he was born, and he looked a shrimp at that."
"Did I say four?" broke in William hastily, "a mistake of course. I meant fourteen. Nay, now I come to remember, it was somewhere around fifteen or sixteen pounds."
The jailer whistled again.
"God save you, sir, but that's something over the odds. It's her ladyship you must look to, and not the child. Is she well?"
"Very well," said William, "and in excellent spirits. When I left her she was discussing with his lordship what names she would bestow upon her son."
"Then she's a pluckier woman than I'd ever give her credit for," answered the jailer. "Well, sir, it seems to me you deserve three glasses after that. To bring a child of sixteen pounds into the world is a hard evening's work. Here's luck, sir, to you, and the child, and to the lady who drank with us here this evening, for she's worth twenty Lady Godolphins if I'm not mistaken."
There was silence a moment, and the clinking of glasses, and Dona heard a great sigh from the jailer, and a smacking of lips.
"I warrant they don't brew stuff like that in France," he said, "it's all grapes and frogs over there, isn't it, and snails, and such-like? I took a glass just now to my prisoner above, and you'll scarcely credit me, sir, but he's a cool-blooded fish for a dying man, as you might say. He quaffed his ale in one draught and he slapped me on the shoulder, laughing."
"It's the foreign blood," broke in the second guard. "They're all alike, Frenchmen, Dutchmen, Spaniards, no matter what they are. Women and drink is all they think about, and when you're not looking it's a stab in the back."
"And what does he do his last day," continued Zachariah, "but cover sheets of paper with birds, and sit there smoking and smiling to himself. You'd think he'd send for a priest, for they're all papists, these fellows; it's robbery and rape one minute and confession and crucifixes the next. But not our Frenchman. He's a law to himself, I reckon. Will you have another glass, doctor?"
"Thank you, my man," said William. Dona could hear the sound of the ale as it was poured into the tankard, and she wondered, for the first time, how strong a head William had, and whether it was altogether wise to accept the jailer's invitation with so good a grace.
William coughed, dry and hard, a little signal to herself.
"I should be interested to see the man," he said, "after what I have heard. A very desperate person, by all accounts. The country will be well rid of him. He's asleep now, I suppose, if a man can sleep on his last night?"
"Asleep? Bless you, no, sir. He's had two glasses of ale, and he said you'd pay me for them, and that if you did turn up at the keep here before midnight he'd join you in another glass, and drink to the son and heir." The jailer laughed, and then lowering his voice he added, "It's irregular, sir, of course, but then, when a man is going to be hanged in the morning, even if he is a pirate and a Frenchman. You can't exactly wish them ill, can you, sir?" Dona could not catch William's reply, but she heard the chink of coins, and the scrape of feet. The jailer laughed again and said, "Thank you, sir, you're a true gentleman, and when my wife's expecting again, I shall think of you."
Now she could hear their feet climbing the stairs to the room above, and she swallowed, her nails digging into the palms of her hands. For this was the moment now she feared above all others, when a slip might cause disaster, when recognition might come and all be lost. She waited until she judged them outside his cell above, and going close to the door she listened, and heard the sound of voices and the turning of a key in the lock. Then, when she heard the heavy clanging of the door upon them, she ventured to the entrance of the keep and stepped inside, and saw the two remaining guards with their backs towards her. One was sitting on a bench against the wall, yawning and stretching himself, and the other stood looking up the stairs.
The light was dim, for only one lantern swung from the beam. Keeping in the shadow of the door she knocked, and said, "Is Doctor Williams within?" The men turned at the sound of her voice, and the one on the bench blinked at her and said, "What do you want with him?"
"They've sent word from the house," she answered. "Her ladyship's been taken worse."
"Small wonder," said the man by the stair, "after carrying sixteen pounds. All right, lad, I'll tell him." He began to mount the stairs, calling as he did so. "Zachariah, they want the doctor up at the house yonder." Dona watched him turn the corner of the stairs, and beat upon the door, and as he did so she kicked the door of the entrance with her foot, and slammed it, and shot the bolt and closed the grill, before the guard on the bench could rise to his feet and shout, "Hi, there, what the devil are you doing?"
The table was between them, and as he came towards her she leant against it, putting all her weight upon it, and the table crashed on the floor with him sprawling upon it, and as he fell she heard a stifled cry from the stair above, and the sound of a blow. Then, seizing the jug of ale beside her, she threw it at the lantern and the light was extinguished. The man on the floor scrambled from beneath the table, shouting for Zachariah, and as he raised his voice, cursing and stumbling in the darkness Dona heard the Frenchman call to her from the stairs, "Are you there, Dona?" and "Yes," she panted, half dazed with laughter and excitement and fear, and he sprang over the rail of the stone stairs to the ground beneath, and found the man in the darkness. She heard them fighting there, close to the steps. He was using the butt end of the pistol; she could hear the blow. The man fell against the table, groaning, and "Give me your handkerchief, Dona, for a gag," said the Frenchman, and she tore it from her head.