The door was
opened by Bryan, and the party entered without further ceremony.
They found no one within except an old woman, with harsh, wrinkled
features, and a glance as ill-omened as that of a witch, whom Bryan
Bowntance told them was Fenwolf's mother. This old crone regarded
the intruders uneasily.
"Where is your son, dame?" demanded the duke.
"On his walk in the forest," replied the old crone bluntly.
"What time did he go forth?" inquired Surrey.
"An hour before daybreak, as is his custom," returned the woman, in the
same short tone as before.
"You are sure he slept at home last night, dame?" said Surrey.
"As sure as l am that the question is asked me," she replied. "I can
show you the very bed on which he slept, if you desire to see it. He
retired soon after sunset--slept soundly, as he always sleeps--and arose
as I have told you. I lighted a fire, and made him some hot pottage
myself."
"If she speaks the truth, you must be mistaken," observed Richmond in
a whisper to his friend.
"I do not believe her," replied Surrey, in the same tone. "Show us his
chamber, dame."
The old crone sullenly complied, and, throwing open a side door,
disclosed an inner apartment, in which there was a small bed.
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