Perhaps it was the memory of those spiteful and malicious glances
bent upon his preceptor by Brother Fabian that suggested to Edred
upon the day following to pay a visit to the secret chamber that
had once before so well sheltered a helpless fugitive.

The secret of that chamber still remained with the three boys and
their faithful esquire, Warbel. To no other living soul in the
house had any of these four ever named the matter. The boys might
not have been able to give any reason for this reticence towards
their parents, but the fact remained that they had never revealed
the secret to them, and that although tradition still spoke of a
cleverly-masked chamber somewhere at Chad, it was now popularly
supposed to have been in that part of the house which had boon
demolished during the Wars of the Roses. Children did not chatter
to their parents in days of old as they do now. They might love
them never so well, but they held them in reverence and even in
awe. They were silent in their presence, as a rule, unless spoken
to first, and the habit of conversational intimacy did not grow up
until a much later period in their lives. Thus the adventures of
Warbel, and his strange midnight visit to their bedchamber, had
never been told to Sir Oliver or his wife. All they knew was that
the man had taken refuge from the anger of the Lord of Mortimer in
one of their woodmen's huts. They were glad to give him shelter and
employment at Chad, and had never regretted the hospitality
extended to him; for he had proved the most faithful of servants,
and his devotion to the boys was so great that they could be
trusted anywhere in his keeping.