But his window was close shut, nor was there any light behind it.
A minute or two passed, during which she heard the combined discords of the rising portcullis.

Then out came Eccles, slow and sleepy.
'By St.George and St.Patrick!' cried Richard, 'why keep'st thou six legs here standing idle?
Is thy master's business nothing to thee ?' Eccles looked up at him.

He was coming to his senses.
'Thou rides in strange graith on my lord's business,' he said, as he put the key in the lock.
'What is that to thee?
Open the gate.

And make haste.

If it please my lord that I ride thus to escape eyes that else might see further than thine, keen as they are, master Eccles, it is nothing to thee.' The lock clanged, the gate swung open, and Richard rode through.
By this time a process of doubt and reasoning, rapid as only thought can be, had produced in the mind of Dorothy the conviction that there was something wrong.