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.
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