Kenilworth
Page 398At the same instant, Varney called in at the window, in an accent and
tone which was an indescribable mixture betwixt horror and raillery, "Is
the bird caught?--is the deed done?"
"O God, forgive us!" replied Anthony Foster.
"Why, thou fool," said Varney, "thy toil is ended, and thy reward
secure. Look down into the vault--what seest thou?"
"I see only a heap of white clothes, like a snowdrift," said Foster. "O
God, she moves her arm!"
"Hurl something down on her--thy gold chest, Tony--it is an heavy one."
"Varney, thou art an incarnate fiend!" replied Foster.
"So pass our troubles," said Varney, entering the room; "I dreamed not I
could have mimicked the Earl's call so well."
"Oh, if there be judgment in heaven, thou hast deserved it," said
Foster, "and wilt meet it! Thou hast destroyed her by means of her best
affections--it is a seething of the kid in the mother's milk!"
"Thou art a fanatical ass," replied Varney; "let us now think how the
alarm should be given--the body is to remain where it is."
But their wickedness was to be permitted no longer; for even while they
were at this consultation, Tressilian and Raleigh broke in upon them,
they had secured at the village.
Anthony Foster fled on their entrance, and knowing each corner and pass
of the intricate old house, escaped all search. But Varney was taken on
the spot; and instead of expressing compunction for what he had done,
seemed to take a fiendish pleasure in pointing out to them the remains
of the murdered Countess, while at the same time he defied them to show
that he had any share in her death. The despairing grief of Tressilian,
on viewing the mangled and yet warm remains of what had lately been so
lovely and so beloved, was such that Raleigh was compelled to have him
of what was to be done.
Varney, upon a second examination, made very little mystery either of
the crime or of its motives---alleging, as a reason for his frankness,
that though much of what he confessed could only have attached to him by
suspicion, yet such suspicion would have been sufficient to deprive
him of Leicester's confidence, and to destroy all his towering plans of
ambition. "I was not born," he said, "to drag on the remainder of life a
degraded outcast; nor will I so die that my fate shall make a holiday to
the vulgar herd."