Manfred ordered the torches to be held up, and perceived that one of the
cheeks of the enchanted casque had forced its way through the pavement of
the court, as his servants had let it fall over the peasant, and had
broken through into the vault, leaving a gap, through which the peasant
had pressed himself some minutes before he was found by Isabella. “Was that the way by which thou didst descend?” said Manfred. “It was,” said the youth. “But what noise was that,” said Manfred, “which I heard as I entered the
cloister?”

“A door clapped,” said the peasant; “I heard it as well as you.”

“What door?” said Manfred hastily. “I am not acquainted with your castle,” said the peasant; “this is the
first time I ever entered it, and this vault the only part of it within
which I ever was.”

“But I tell thee,” said Manfred (wishing to find out if the youth had
discovered the trap-door), “it was this way I heard the noise. My
servants heard it too.”

“My Lord,” interrupted one of them officiously, “to be sure it was the
trap-door, and he was going to make his escape.”

“Peace, blockhead!” said the Prince angrily; “if he was going to escape,
how should he come on this side? I will know from his own mouth what
noise it was I heard. Tell me truly; thy life depends on thy veracity.”

“My veracity is dearer to me than my life,” said the peasant; “nor would
I purchase the one by forfeiting the other.”

“Indeed, young philosopher!” said Manfred contemptuously; “tell me, then,
what was the noise I heard?”

“Ask me what I can answer,” said he, “and put me to death instantly if I
tell you a lie.”

Manfred, growing impatient at the steady valour and indifference of the
youth, cried—

“Well, then, thou man of truth, answer! Was it the fall of the trap-door
that I heard?”

“It was,” said the youth. “It was!” said the Prince; “and how didst thou come to know there was a
trap-door here?”

“I saw the plate of brass by a gleam of moonshine,” replied he. “But what told thee it was a lock?” said Manfred. “How didst thou
discover the secret of opening it?”

“Providence, that delivered me from the helmet, was able to direct me to
the spring of a lock,” said he. “Providence should have gone a little farther, and have placed thee out
of the reach of my resentment,” said Manfred. “When Providence had
taught thee to open the lock, it abandoned thee for a fool, who did not
know how to make use of its favours. Why didst thou not pursue the path
pointed out for thy escape? Why didst thou shut the trap-door before
thou hadst descended the steps?”

“I might ask you, my Lord,” said the peasant, “how I, totally
unacquainted with your castle, was to know that those steps led to any
outlet? but I scorn to evade your questions. Wherever those steps lead
to, perhaps I should have explored the way—I could not be in a worse
situation than I was. But the truth is, I let the trap-door fall: your
immediate arrival followed. I had given the alarm—what imported it to me
whether I was seized a minute sooner or a minute later?”

“Thou art a resolute villain for thy years,” said Manfred; “yet on
reflection I suspect thou dost but trifle with me. Thou hast not yet
told me how thou didst open the lock.”

“That I will show you, my Lord,” said the peasant; and, taking up a
fragment of stone that had fallen from above, he laid himself on the
trap-door, and began to beat on the piece of brass that covered it,
meaning to gain time for the escape of the Princess. This presence of
mind, joined to the frankness of the youth, staggered Manfred. He even
felt a disposition towards pardoning one who had been guilty of no crime. Manfred was not one of those savage tyrants who wanton in cruelty
unprovoked. The circumstances of his fortune had given an asperity to
his temper, which was naturally humane; and his virtues were always ready
to operate, when his passions did not obscure his reason. While the Prince was in this suspense, a confused noise of voices echoed
through the distant vaults. As the sound approached, he distinguished
the clamours of some of his domestics, whom he had dispersed through the
castle in search of Isabella, calling out—

“Where is my Lord? where is the Prince?”

“Here I am,” said Manfred, as they came nearer; “have you found the
Princess?”

The first that arrived, replied, “Oh, my Lord! I am glad we have found
you.”

“Found me!” said Manfred; “have you found the Princess?”

“We thought we had, my Lord,” said the fellow, looking terrified, “but—”

“But, what?” cried the Prince; “has she escaped?”

“Jaquez and I, my Lord—”

“Yes, I and Diego,” interrupted the second, who came up in still greater
consternation. “Speak one of you at a time,” said Manfred; “I ask you, where is the
Princess?”

“We do not know,” said they both together; “but we are frightened out of
our wits.”

“So I think, blockheads,” said Manfred; “what is it has scared you thus?”

“Oh! my Lord,” said Jaquez, “Diego has seen such a sight! your Highness
would not believe our eyes.”

“What new absurdity is this?” cried Manfred; “give me a direct answer,
or, by Heaven—”

“Why, my Lord, if it please your Highness to hear me,” said the poor
fellow, “Diego and I—”

“Yes, I and Jaquez—” cried his comrade. “Did not I forbid you to speak both at a time?” said the Prince: “you,
Jaquez, answer; for the other fool seems more distracted than thou art;
what is the matter?”

“My gracious Lord,” said Jaquez, “if it please your Highness to hear me;
Diego and I, according to your Highness’s orders, went to search for the
young Lady; but being comprehensive that we might meet the ghost of my
young Lord, your Highness’s son, God rest his soul, as he has not
received Christian burial—”

“Sot!” cried Manfred in a rage; “is it only a ghost, then, that thou hast
seen?”

“Oh! worse! worse! my Lord,” cried Diego: “I had rather have seen ten
whole ghosts.”

“Grant me patience!” said Manfred; “these blockheads distract me. Out of
my sight, Diego! and thou, Jaquez, tell me in one word, art thou sober? art thou raving? thou wast wont to have some sense: has the other sot
frightened himself and thee too? Speak; what is it he fancies he has
seen?”

“Why, my Lord,” replied Jaquez, trembling, “I was going to tell your
Highness, that since the calamitous misfortune of my young Lord, God rest
his precious soul! not one of us your Highness’s faithful servants—indeed
we are, my Lord, though poor men—I say, not one of us has dared to set a
foot about the castle, but two together: so Diego and I, thinking that my
young Lady might be in the great gallery, went up there to look for her,
and tell her your Highness wanted something to impart to her.”

“O blundering fools!” cried Manfred; “and in the meantime, she has made
her escape, because you were afraid of goblins!—Why, thou knave! she left
me in the gallery; I came from thence myself.”

“For all that, she may be there still for aught I know,” said Jaquez;
“but the devil shall have me before I seek her there again—poor Diego!