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"The old Sheik would give a round sum for a fair young damsel like her!" were the words that maddened her brother into a desperate struggle, baffled with a hoarse laugh by the men-at-arms, who were keeping him down, hand and foot, when a new voice sounded: "How now, fellows! What's this?"

In one moment Walter was released and on his feet, and the men fell back, ashamed and gloomy, as a sturdy figure, with sun-browned face, light locks worn away by the helmet, and slightly grizzled, stood among them, in a much-rubbed and soiled chamois leather garment.

Walter broke out into passionate exclamations; the men, evidently ashamed, met them with murmurs and growls. "Bad enough, bad enough!" broke in Sigbert; "but there's no need to make it worse. Better to waste with hunger and thirst than be a nidering fellow-rising against your lord in his distress."

"We would never have done it if he would have kept a civil tongue."

"Civility's hard to a tongue dried up," returned Sigbert. "But look you here, comrades, leave me a word with my young lord here, and I plight my faith that you shall have enow to quench your thirst within six hours at the least."

There was an attempt at a cheer, broken by the murmur, "We have heard enough of that! It is always six hours and six hours."

"And the Saracen hounds outside would at least give us a draught of water ere they made away with us," said another.

"Saracens, forsooth!" said Sigbert. "You shall leave the Saracens far behind you. A few words first with my lord, and you shall hear. Meanwhile, you, John Cook, take all the beef remaining; make it in small fardels, such as a man may easily carry."

"That's soon done," muttered the cook. "The entire weight would scarce bow a lad's shoulders."

"The rest of you put together what you would save from the enemy, and is not too heavy to carry." One man made some attempt at growling at a mere lad being consulted, while the stout warriors were kept in ignorance; but the spirit of discipline and confidence had returned with Sigbert, and no one heeded the murmur. Meantime, Sigbert followed the young Lord Walter up the rough winding stairs to the chamber where Mabel lay on her cushions. "What! what!" demanded the boy, pausing to enter. Sigbert, by way of answer, quietly produced from some hidden pouch two figs. Walter snatched at one with a cry of joy. Mabel held out her hand, then, with a gasp, drew it back. "Has Roger had one?"

Sigbert signed in the affirmative, and Mabel took a bite of the luscious fruit with a gasp of pleasure, yet paused once more to hold the remainder to her nurse.

"The Saints bless you, my sweet lamb!" exclaimed the old woman; "finish it yourself. I could not."

"If you don't want it, give it to me," put in Walter.

"For shame, my lord," Sigbert did not scruple to say, nor could the thirsty girl help finishing the refreshing morsel, while Walter, with some scanty murmur of excuse, demanded where it came from, and what Sigbert had meant by promises of safety.

"Sir," said Sigbert, "you may remember how some time back your honoured father threw one of the fellaheen into the dungeon for maiming old Leo."

"The villain! I remember. I thought he was hanged."

"No, sir. He escaped. I went to take him food, and he was gone! I then found an opening in the vault, of which I spoke to none, save your father, for fear of mischief; but I built it up with stones. Now, in our extremity, I bethought me of it, and resolved to try whether the prisoner had truly escaped, for where he went, we might go. Long and darksome is the way underground, but it opens at last through one of the old burial-places of the Jews into the thickets upon the bank of the Jordan."

"The Jordan! Little short of a league!" exclaimed Walter.

"A league, underground, and in the dark," sighed Mabel.

"Better than starving here like a rat in a trap," returned her brother.

"Ah yes; oh yes! I will think of the cool river and the trees at the end."

"You will find chill enough, lady, long ere you reach the river," said Sigbert. "You must wrap yourself well. 'Tis an ugsome passage; but your heart must not fail you, for it is the only hope left us."

The two young people were far too glad to hear of any prospect of release, to think much of the dangers or discomforts of the mode. Walter danced for joy up and down the room like a young colt, as he thought of being in a few hours more in the free open air, with the sound of water rippling below, and the shade of trees above him. Mabel threw herself on her knees before her rude crucifix, partly in thankfulness, partly in dread of the passage that was to come first.

"Like going through the grave to life," she murmured to her nurse.

And when the scanty garrison was gathered together, as many as possible provided with brands that might serve as torches, and Sigbert led them, lower and lower, down rugged steps hewn in the rock, through vaults where only a gleam came from above, and then through deeper cavernous places, intensely dark, there was a shudder perceptible by the clank and rattle of the armour which each had donned. In the midst, Walter paused and exclaimed-

"Our banner! How leave it to the Paynim dogs?"

"It's here, sir," said Sigbert, showing a bundle on his back.

"Warning to the foe to break in and seek us," grumbled Gilbert.

"Not so," replied Sigbert. "I borrowed an old wrapper of nurse's that will cheat their eyes till we shall be far beyond their ken."

In the last dungeon a black opening lay before them, just seen by the light of the lamp Sigbert carried, but so low that there was no entrance save on hands and knees.

"That den!" exclaimed Walter. "'Tis a rat-hole. Never can we go that way."

"I have tried it, sir," quoth Sigbert. "Where I can go, you can go. Your sister quails not."

"It is fearful," said Mabel, unable to repress a shiver; "but, Walter, think what is before us if we stay here! The Saints will guard us."

"The worst and lowest part only lasts for a few rods," explained Sigbert. "Now, sir, give your orders. Torches and lanterns, save Hubert's and nurse's, to be extinguished. We cannot waste them too soon, but beware of loosing hold on them."

Walter repeated the orders thus dictated to him, and Sigbert arranged the file. It was absolutely needful that Sigbert should go first to lead the way. Mabel was to follow him for the sake of his help, then her brother, next nurse, happily the only other female. Between two stout and trustworthy men the wounded Roger came. Then one after another the rest of the men-at-arms and servants, five-and-twenty in number. The last of the file was Hubert, with a lamp; the others had to move in darkness. There had been no horse of any value in the castle, for the knight's charger had been mortally hurt in his last expedition, and there had been no opportunity of procuring another. A deerhound, however, pushed and scrambled to the front, and Sigbert observed that he might be of great use in running before them. Before entering, however, Sigbert gave the caution that no word nor cry must be uttered aloud, hap what might, until permission was given, for they would pass under the Saracen camp, and there was no knowing whether the sounds would reach the ears above ground.

A strange plunge it was into the utter darkness, crawling on hands and knees, with the chill cavernous gloom and rock seeming to press in upon those who slowly crept along, the dim light of Sigbert's lamp barely showing as he slowly moved on before. One of the two in the rear was dropped and extinguished in the dismal passage, a loss proclaimed by a suppressed groan passing along the line, and a louder exclamation from Walter, causing Sigbert to utter a sharp 'Hush!' enforced by a thud and tramp above, as if the rock were coming down on them, but which probably was the trampling of horses in the camp above.

The smoke of the lamp in front drifted back, and the air was more and more oppressive. Mabel, with set teeth and compressed lips, struggled on, clinging tight to the end of the cord which Sigbert had tied to his body for her to hold by, while in like manner Walter's hand was upon her dress. It became more and more difficult to breathe, or crawl on, till at last, just as there was a sense that it was unbearable, and that it would be easier to lie still and die than be dragged an inch farther, the air became freer, the roof seemed to be farther away, the cavern wider, and the motion freer.