"And wherefore was I not told of all this?" said Leicester sternly. "Why

did all of ye--and in particular thou, Varney--keep back from me such

material information?"

"Because, my lord," replied Varney, "the Countess pretended to Foster

and to me that Tressilian had intruded himself upon her; and I concluded

their interview had been in all honour, and that she would at her own

time tell it to your lordship. Your lordship knows with what unwilling

ears we listen to evil surmises against those whom we love; and I thank

Heaven I am no makebate or informer, to be the first to sow them."

"You are but too ready to receive them, however, Sir Richard," replied

his patron. "How knowest thou that this interview was not in all honour,

as thou hast said? Methinks the wife of the Earl of Leicester might

speak for a short time with such a person as Tressilian without injury

to me or suspicion to herself."

"Questionless, my lord," answered Varney, "Had I thought otherwise,

I had been no keeper of the secret. But here lies the rub--Tressilian

leaves not the place without establishing a correspondence with a poor

man, the landlord of an inn in Cumnor, for the purpose of carrying off

the lady. He sent down an emissary of his, whom I trust soon to have

in right sure keeping under Mervyn's Tower--Killigrew and Lambsbey are

scouring the country in quest of him. The host is rewarded with a ring

for keeping counsel--your lordship may have noted it on Tressilian's

hand--here it is. This fellow, this agent, makes his way to the place

as a pedlar; holds conferences with the lady, and they make their escape

together by night; rob a poor fellow of a horse by the way, such was

their guilty haste, and at length reach this Castle, where the Countess

of Leicester finds refuge--I dare not say in what place."

"Speak, I command thee," said Leicester--"speak, while I retain sense

enough to hear thee."

"Since it must be so," answered Varney, "the lady resorted immediately

to the apartment of Tressilian, where she remained many hours, partly in

company with him, and partly alone. I told you Tressilian had a paramour

in his chamber; I little dreamed that paramour was--"

"Amy, thou wouldst say," answered Leicester; "but it is false, false as

the smoke of hell! Ambitious she may be--fickle and impatient--'tis a

woman's fault; but false to me!--never, never. The proof--the proof of

this!" he exclaimed hastily.




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