CHAPTER XL.
With shame and sorrow filled: Shame for his folly; sorrow out of time For plotting an unprofitable crime.--Dryden.
We must once more take our readers back, if it be but for the space ofa couple of hours, and introduce them into the bedchamber of a king: aplace, we believe, as yet sacred from the sacrilegious foot of anynovelist.
In the castle of Guisnes, then, and in the sleeping-room of Henry theEighth, King of England, stood, exactly opposite the window, a largesquare bed, covered with a rich coverlet of arras, which, hanging downon each side, swept the floor with its golden fringe. High overhead,attached to the wall, was a broad and curiously-wrought canopy,whereon the laborious needle of some British Penelope had traced, withthreads of gold, the rare and curious history of that famous knight,Alexander the Great, who was there represented with lance in rest,dressed in a suit of Almaine rivet armour, overthrowing King Darius;who, for his part, being in a mighty fright, was whacking on hisclumsy elephant with his sceptre, while the son of Philip, with moreeffect, appeared pricking him up under the ribs with the point of hisspear.
In one corner of the chamber, ranged in fair and goodly order, were tobe seen several golden lavers and ewers, together with fine diapersand other implements for washing; while hard by was an open closetfilled with linen and plate of various kinds, with several Veniceglasses, a mirror, and a bottle of scented waters. In addition tothese pieces of furniture appeared four wooden settles of carved oak,which, with two large rich chairs of ivory and gold, made up, at thatday, the furniture of a king's bed-chamber.
The square lattice window was half-open, letting in the sweet breathof the summer morning upon Henry himself, who, with his headhalf-covered with a black velvet nightcap, embroidered with gold,still lay in bed, supporting himself on his elbow, and listening to along detail of grievances poured forth from the rotund mouth of honestJekin Groby, who, by the king's command, encumbered with his weightybulk one of the ivory chairs by the royal bedside.
Somewhat proud of having had a lord for the companion of his perils,the worthy clothier enlarged mightily upon the seizure of himself andLord Darnley by Sir Payan Wileton, seasoning his discourse prettythickly with "_My lord did_," and "_My lord said_," but omittingaltogether to mention him by the name of Sir Osborne, thinking itwould be a degradation to his high companionship so to do; though, hadhe done so but once, it would have saved many of the misfortunes thatafterwards befel.
Henry heard him calmly, till he related the threats which Sir Payanheld out to his prisoner, in that interview of which Jekin had been anunperceived witness; then starting up, "Mother of God!" cried theking, "what has become of the young gallant? Where is he? ha, man?Now, heaven defend us! the base traitor has not murdered him! ha?"
"Lord 'a mercy! you've kicked all the clothes off your grace'sworship," cried Jekin: "let me kiver you up! you'll catch a malplexy,you will!"
"God's life! answer me, man!" cried Henry. "What has become of theyoung lord, Osborne Darnley?--ha?"
"Bless your grace! that's just what I cannot tell you," replied Jekin;"for I never saw him after we got out."
"Send for the traitor! have him brought instantly!" exclaimed theking. "See who knocks! Let no one in! Who dares knock so loud at mychamber-door?"
Proceeding round the king's bed, Jekin opened the door, against whichsome one had been thumping with very little ceremony; but in a momentthe valiant clothier started back, exclaiming, "Lord 'a mercy! it's agreat man with a drawn sword!"
"A drawn sword!" cried Henry, starting up, and snatching his ownweapon, which lay beside him. But at that moment Francis ran in, and,holding his blade over the king, commanded him to surrender.
"I yield! I yield!" exclaimed Henry, delighted with the jest. "Now, bymy life, my good brother of France, thou has shown me the best turnever prince showed another. I yield me your prisoner; and, as sign ofmy faith, I beg you to accept this jewel." So saying, he took from hispillow, where it had been laid the night before, a rich bracelet ofemeralds, and clasped it on the French king's arm.
"I receive it willingly," answered Francis; "but for my love andamity, and also as my prisoner, you must wear this chain;" and,unclasping a jewelled collar from his neck, he laid it down beside theEnglish monarch.
Many were the civilities and reciprocations of friendly speeches thatnow ensued; and Henry, about to rise, would fain have called anattendant to assist him, but Francis took the office on himself."Come, I will be your valet for this morning," said he; "no one but Ishall give you your shirt; for I have come over alone to beg someboons of you."
"They are granted from this moment," replied Henry. "But do you sayyou came alone? Do you mean unattended?"
"With but one faithful friend," answered the French king; "one who nota week ago saved my life by the valour of his arm. 'Tis the bestknight that ever charged a lance, and the noblest heart: he is yoursubject, too."
"Mine!" cried Henry, with some surprise. "How is he called? What ishis name? Say, France, and we will love him for his service to you."
"First, hear how he did serve me," replied Francis; and, while theEnglish monarch threaded the intricate mazes of the toilet, henarrated the whole of his adventure with Shoenvelt, which not a littleinterested Henry, the knight-errantry of whose disposition took fireat the vivid recital of the French king, and almost made him fancyhimself on the spot.
"A gallant knight!" cried he at length, as the King of France detailedthe exploits of Sir Osborne; "a most gallant knight, on my life! Butsay, my brother, what is his name? 'Slife, man! let us hear it. I longto know him."
"His name," replied Francis, with an indifferent tone, but at the sametime fixing his eyes on Henry's face, to see what effect his answerwould produce; "his name is Sir Osborne Maurice."
A cloud came over the countenance of the English king. "Ha!" said he,thoughtfully, jealous perhaps in some degree that the splendidchivalrous qualities of the young knight should be transferred to thecourt of France. "It is like him. It is very like him. For courage andfor feats of arms, I, who have seen many good knights, have rarelyseen his equal. Pity it is that he should be a traitor."
"Nay, nay, my good brother of England," answered Francis; "I willavouch him no traitor, but of unimpeachable loyalty. All I regret is,that his love for your noble person, and for the court of England,should make him wish to quit me. But to the point. My first boonregards him. He seeks not to return to your royal favour with honourstained and faith doubtful, but he claims your gracious permission todefy his enemies, and to prove their falsehood with his arm. If theybe men, let them meet him in fair field; if they be women orchurchmen, lame, or in any way incompetent according to the law ofarms, let them have a champion, the best in France or England. Toregain your favour and to prove his innocence, he will defy them bethey who they may; and here at your feet I lay down his gage ofbattle, so confident in his faith and worth, that I myself will be hisgodfather in the fight. He waits here in the corridor to know yourroyal pleasure."
Henry thought for a moment. He was not at all willing that the courtof Francis, already renowned for its chivalry, should possess stillanother knight of so much prowess and skill as he could not but admitin Sir Osborne. Yet the accusations that had been laid against him,and which nobody who considers them--the letter of the Duke ofBuckingham, and the evidence of Wilson the bailiff--can deny wereplausible, still rankled in the king's mind, notwithstanding thepartial explanation which Lady Katrine Bulmer had afforded respectingthe knight's influence with the Rochester rioters. Remembering,however, that the whole or greater part of the information whichWolsey had laid before him had been obtained, either directly orindirectly, from Sir Payan Wileton, he at length replied, "By myfaith, I know not what to say: it is not wise to take the sword fromthe hand of the law, and trust to private valour to maintain publicjustice, more than we can avoid. But you, my royal brother, shall inthe present case decide. The accusations against this Sir OsborneMaurice are many and heavy, but princ
ipally resting on the testimoniesproduced by a certain wealthy and powerful knight, one Sir PayanWileton, who, though in other respects most assuredly a base anddisloyal villain, can have no enmity against Sir Osborne, and nointerest in seeking his ruin. Last night, by my order, this Sir Payanwas brought hither from Calais, on the accusations of that good fool(pointing to Jekin Groby). You comprehend enough of our hard Englishtongue to hear him examined yourself, and thus you shall judge. If youfind that there is cause to suspect Sir Payan and his witnesses,though it be but in having given the slightest colour of falsehood totheir testimony, let Sir Osborne's arm decide his quarrel against theother knight; but if their evidence be clear and indubitable, youshall yield him to be judged by the English law. What say you? Is itnot just?"
The King of France at once agreed to the proposal, and Henry turned toJekin, who had stood by, listening with his mouth open, wonderfullyedified at hearing the two kings converse, though he understood not aword of the language in which they spoke. "Fly to the page, man!"cried the king; "tell him to bid those who have Sir Payan Wileton incustody bring him hither instantly by the back-staircase; but firstsend to the reverend lord cardinal, requiring his counsel in theking's chamber. Haste! dally not, I say; I would have them heredirectly."
Jekin hurried to obey; and after he had delivered the order, returnedto the king's chamber, where Henry, while he completed the adjustmentof his apparel, related to Francis the nature of the accusationagainst Sir Osborne, and the proofs that had been adduced of it. TheKing of France, however, with a mind less susceptible of suspicion,would not believe a word of it, maintaining that the witnesses weresuborned and that the letter was a forgery; and contended it wouldmost certainly appear that Sir Payan had some deep interest in theruin of the knight.
The sound of many steps in the ante-chamber soon announced that someone had arrived. "Quick!" cried Henry to Jekin Groby; "get behind thearras, good Jekin. After we have despatched this first business, Iwould ask the traitor some questions before he sees thee. Ensconcethee, man! ensconce thee quick!"
At the king's command, poor Jekin lifted up the corner of the arras bythe side of the bed, and hid himself behind; but though a considerablespace existed between the hangings and the wall, the worthy clothierhaving, as we have hinted, several very protuberant contours in hisperson, his figure was somewhat discernible still, swelling out thestomach of King Solomon and the hip of the Queen of Sheba, who wererepresented in the tapestry as if one was crooked and the other hadthe dropsy.
Scarcely was he concealed when the page threw open the door, andCardinal Wolsey entered in haste, somewhat surprised at being calledto the king's chamber at so early an hour; but the sight of the Frenchking sufficiently explained the summons, and he advanced, bending lowwith a proud affectation of humility.
"God bless and shield your graces both!" said he. "I feared some evilby this early call; but now that I find the occasion was one of joy, Ido not regret the haste that apprehension gave me."
"Still we have business, my good Wolsey," replied Henry, "and of somemoment. My brother of France here espouses much the cause of the SirOsborne Maurice who lately sojourned at the court, and won thegood-will of all, both by his feats of arms and his high-born andnoble demeanour; who, on the accusations given against him to you,lord cardinal, by Sir Payan Wileton, was banished from the court; nay,judged worthy of attachment for treason."
The king, in addressing Wolsey, instead of speaking in French, whichhad been the language used between him and Francis, had returned tohis native tongue; and good Jekin Groby, hearing what passedconcerning Sir Osborne Maurice, was seized with an intolerable desireto have his say too.
"Lord 'a mercy!" cried he, popping his head from behind the tapestry,"your grace's worship don't know----"
"Silence!" cried Henry, in a voice that made poor Jekin shrink intonothing: "said I not to stay there--ha?"
The worthy clothier drew back his head behind the arras, like afrightened tortoise retracting its noddle within the shelter of itsshell; and Henry proceeded to explain to Wolsey, in French, what hadpassed between himself and Francis.
The cardinal was, at that moment, striving hard for the King ofFrance's favour; nor was his resentment towards Sir Payan at allabated, though the arrangements of the first meeting between the kingshad hitherto delayed its effects. Thus all at first seemed favourableto Sir Osborne, and the minister himself began to soften the evidenceagainst him, when Sir Payan, escorted by a party of archers and asergeant-at-arms, was conducted into the king's chamber. The guarddrew up across the door of the anteroom; and the knight, with a palebut determined countenance, and a firm heavy step, advanced into thecentre of the room, and made his obeisance to the kings. Henry, nowdressed, drew forward one of the ivory chairs for Francis, and thesergeant hastened to place the other by its side for the Britishmonarch; when, both being seated, with Wolsey by their side, the wholegroup would have formed as strange but powerful a picture as everemployed the pencil of an artist. The two magnificent monarchs in thepride of their youth and greatness, somewhat shadowed by the easternwall of the room; the grand and dignified form of the cardinal, withhis countenance full of thought and mind; the stern, determined aspectof Sir Payan, his whole figure possessing that sort of rigidityindicative of a violent and continued mental effort, with the fulllight streaming harshly through the open casement upon his palecheek and haggard eye, and passing on to the king's bed, and thedressing-robe he had cast off upon it, showing the strange scene inwhich Henry's impetuosity had caused such a conclave to be held: theseobjects formed the foreground; while the sergeant-at-arms standingbehind the prisoner, and the guard drawn up across the doorway,completed the picture; till, gliding in between the arches, thestrange figure of Sir Cesar the astrologer, with his cheeks sunken andlivid, and his eye lighted up by a kind of wild maniacal fire, enteredthe room, and, taking a place close on the right hand of Henry, addeda new and curious feature to the already extraordinary scene.
"Sir Payan Wileton," said Henry, "many and grievous are the crimeslaid to your charge, and of which your own conscience must accuse youas loudly as the living voices of your fellow-subjects; at least, soby the evidence brought forward against you, it appears to us at thismoment. Most of these charges we shall leave to be investigated by thecommon course of law; but there are some points touching which, asthey involve our own personal conduct and direction, we shall questionyou ourself: to which questions we charge you, on your allegiance, toanswer truly and without concealment."
"To your grace's questions," replied Sir Payan, boldly, "I will answerfor your pleasure, though I recognise here no established court oflaw; but first, I will say that the crimes charged against me ought tobe heavier than I, in my innocence believe them, to justify the rigourwith which I have been treated."
An ominous frown gathered on the king's brow. "Ha!" cried he,forgetting the calm dignity with which he had at first addressed theknight. "No established court of law! Thou sayest well: we have notthe power to question thee! Ha! who then is the king? Who is the headof all magistrates? Who holds in his hand the power of all the law? Byour crown! we have a mind to assemble such a court of law as withinthis half-hour shall have thy head struck off upon the green!"
Sir Payan was silent, and Wolsey replied to the latter part of what hehad said with somewhat more calmness than Henry had done to theformer. "You have been treated, sir," said he, "with not more rigourthan you merited; nor with more than is justified by the usual currentof the law. It is on affidavit before me, as chancellor of thiskingdom, that you both instigated and aided the Lady Constance deGrey, a ward of court, to fly from the protection and government ofthe law; and, therefore, attachment issued against your person, andyou stand committed for contempt. You had better, sir, sue for graceand pardon than aggravate your offence by such unbecoming demeanour."
"Thou hast said well and wisely, my good Wolsey," joined in the king,whose heat had somewhat subsided. "Standing thus reproved, Sir PayanWileton, answer touching the char
ges you have brought against one SirOsborne Maurice; and if you speak truly, to our satisfaction, youshall have favour and lenity at our hands. Say, sir, do you still holdto that accusation?"
"All I have to reply to your grace," answered the knight, resolved,even if he fell himself, to work out his hatred against Sir Osborne,with that vindictive rancour that the injurer always feels towards theinjured; "all that I have to reply is, that what I said was true; andthat if I had stated all that I suspected, as well as what I knew, Ishould have made his treason look much blacker than it does even now."
"Do you understand, France?" demanded Henry, turning to Francis:"shall I translate his answers, to show you his true meaning?"
The King of France, however, signified that he comprehended perfectly;and Sir Payan, after a moment's thought, proceeded.
"I should suppose your grace could have no doubt left upon thattraitor's guilt; for the charge against him rests, not on mytestimony, but upon the witness of various indifferent persons, andupon papers in the handwriting of his friends and abettors."
"Villain!" muttered Sir Cesar, between his teeth; "hypocritical,snake-like villain!" Both the king and Sir Payan heard him; but Henrymerely raised his hand, as if commanding silence, while the eyes ofthe traitorous knight flashed a momentary fire, as they met the glanceof the old man, and he proceeded. "I had no interest, your grace, indisclosing the plot I did; though, had I done wisely, I would haveheld my peace, for it will make many my enemies, even many more than Idreamed of then. I have since discovered that I then only knew onehalf of those that are implicated. I know them all now," he continued,fixing his eye on Sir Cesar; "but as I find what reward followshonesty, I shall bury the whole within my own breast."
"On these points, sir, we will leave our law to deal with you,"replied Henry: "there are punishments for those that conceal treason;and, by my halidame, no favour shall you find in us, unless you make afree and full confession! Then our grace may touch you, but not else.But to the present question, my bold sir. Did you ever see Sir OsborneMaurice before the day that he was arrested by your order, on thecharge of having excited the Cornishmen to revolt? And, before God, weenjoin you--say, are you excited against him by feelings of interest,hatred, or revenge?"
"On my life," replied Sir Payan, boldly, "I never saw him but on thatone day; and as I hope for salvation in heaven"--and here he made ahypocritical grimace of piety--"I have no one reason, but purehonesty, to accuse him of these crimes."
A low groan burst from behind the tapestry at this reply, and Henrygave an angry glance towards the worthy clothier's place ofconcealment; but Francis, calling back his attention, begged him toask the knight in English whether he had ever known Sir OsborneMaurice by any other name, or in any other character.
Sir Cesar's eyes sparkled, and Sir Payan's cheek turned pale, as Henryput the question; but he boldly replied, "Never, so help me heaven! Inever saw him, or heard of him, or knew him, by any other name thanOsborne Maurice."
"Oh, you villanous great liar! Oh, you hypocritical thief!" shoutedJekin Groby, darting out from behind the tapestry, unable to containhimself any longer. "I don't care, I don't care a groat for any one;but I won't hear you tell his grace's worship such a string of lies,all as fat and as well tacked together as Christmas sausages. Lord 'amercy! I'll tell your graces, both of you, how it was; for you don'tknow, that's clear. This here Sir Osborne Maurice, that you are askingabout, is neither more nor less than that Lord Darnley that I wastelling your grace of this morning. Lord! now, didn't I hear him tellthat sweet young lady, Mistress Constance de Grey, all about it; howhe could not bear to live any longer abroad in these foreign parts,and how he had come back under the name of Sir Osborne Maurice, allfor to get your grace's love as an adventurous knight? And then didn'tthat Sir Payan--yes, you great thief! you did, for I heard you--didn'the come and crow over him, and say that now he had got him in hispower? And then didn't he offer to let him go if he would sign somepapers? And then, when he would not, didn't he swear a great oath thathe would murther him, saying, 'he would make his tenure good by theextinction of the race of Darnley?' You did, you great rogue! you knowyou did! And, Lord 'a mercy! to think of your going about to tell hisgrace such lies! your own king, too, who should never hear anythingbut the truth! God forgive you, for you're a great sinner, and thedevils will never keep company with you when you go to purgatory, butwill kick you out into the other place, which is worse still, folkssay. And now, I humbly beg your grace's pardon, and will go backagain, if you like, behind the hangings; but I couldn't abear to hearhim cheat you like that."
The sudden appearance of Jekin Groby, and the light he cast upon thesubject, threw the whole party into momentary confusion. Sir Payan'sresolution abandoned him; his knees shook, and his very lips grewpale. Sir Cesar gazed upon him with triumphant eyes, exclaiming, "Die,die! what hast thou left but to die?" At the same time Wolseyquestioned Jekin Groby, who told the same straightforward tale; andHenry explained the whole to Francis, whose comprehension of theEnglish tongue did not quite comprise the jargon of the worthyclothier.
Sir Payan Wileton, however, resolved to make one last despairingeffort both to save himself and to ruin his enemies; for thediabolical spirit of revenge was as deeply implanted in his bosom asthat of self-preservation. He thought then for a moment, glancedrapidly over his situation, and cast himself on his knee before theking. "Great and noble monarch!" said he, in a slow, impressive voice,"I own my fault--I acknowledge my crime; but it is not such as youthink it. Hear me but out, and you yourself shall judge whether youwill grant me mercy or show me rigour. I confess, then, that I hadentered as deeply as others into the treasonable plot I have betrayedagainst your throne and life; nay, more--that I would never havedivulged it, had I not found that the Lord Darnley had, under the nameof Sir Osborne Maurice, become the Duke of Buckingham's chief agent,and was to be rewarded by the restitution of Chilham Castle, for whichsome vague indemnity was proposed to me hereafter. On bearing it, Idissembled my resentment; and pretending to enter more heartily thanever into the scheme, I found that the ambitious duke reckoned as hischief hope, in case of war, on the skill and chivalry of this LordDarnley, who promised by his hand to seat him on the throne. Ilearned, moreover, the names of all the conspirators, amongst whomthat old man is one;" and he pointed to Sir Cesar, who gazed upon himwith a smile of contempt and scorn, whose intensity had something ofsublime. "Thirsting for revenge," proceeded Sir Payan, "and with myheart full of rage, I commanded four of my servants to stop theprivate courier of the duke, when I knew he was charged with lettersconcerning this Sir Osborne Maurice, and thus I obtained those papersI placed in the hands of my lord cardinal----"
"But how shall we know they are not forgeries?" cried Henry. "Yourhonour, sir, is so gone, and your testimony so suspicious, that we maywell suppose those letters cunning imitations of the good duke's hand.We have heard of such things--ay, marry have we."
"Herein, happily, your grace can satisfy yourself and prove my truth,"replied Sir Payan; "send for the servants whose names I will give,examine them, put them to the torture if 'you will; and if you wringnot from them that, on the twenty-ninth of March, they stopped, by mycommand, the courier of the Duke of Buckingham, and took from him hisbag of letters, condemn me to the stake. But mark me, King of England!I kneel before you pleading for life; grant it to me, with but my ownhereditary property, and Buckingham, with all the many traitors thatare now aiming at your life and striving for your crown, shall fallinto your hand, and you shall have full evidence against them. I willinstantly disclose all their names, and give you proof against theirchief, that to-morrow you can reward his treason with the axe, norfear to be called unjust. But if you refuse me your royal promise,sacredly given here before your brother king--to yield me life, andliberty, and lands, as soon as I have fulfilled my word--I will go tomy death in silence, like the wolf, and never will you be able toprove anything against them; for that letter is nothing without mytestimony to point it aright."
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p; "You are bold!" said Henry; "you are very bold! but our subjects' goodand the peace of our country may weigh with us. What think you,Wolsey?" And for a moment or two he consulted in a low tone with thecardinal and the King of France. "I believe, my liege," said Wolsey,whose hatred towards Buckingham was of the blindest virulence; "Ibelieve that your grace will never be able to prove his treasons onthe duke without this man's help. Perhaps you had better promise."
Francis bit his lip and was silent; but Henry, turning to Sir Payan,replied, "The tranquillity of our realm and the happiness of ourpeople overcome our hatred of your crimes; and therefore we promise,that if by your evidence treason worthy of death be proved upon EdwardDuke of Buckingham, you shall be free in life, in person, and inlands."
"Never!" cried the voice of Sir Cesar, mounting into a tone ofthunder; "never!" And springing forward, he caught Sir Payan by thethroat, grappled with him but for an instant, with a maniacal vigour,and drawing the small dagger he always carried, plunged it into theheart of the knight, with such force that one might have heard theblow of the hilt against his ribs. The whole was done in a moment,before any one was aware; and the red blood and the dark spiritrushing forth together, with a loud groan the traitor fell prone uponthe ground; while Sir Cesar, without a moment's pause, turned thedagger against his own bosom, and drove it in up to the very haft.
Wolsey drew back in horror and affright. Francis and Henry started up,laying their hands upon their swords; Jekin Groby crept behind thearras; and the guards rushed in to seize the slayer; but Sir Cesarwaved them back with the proud and dignified air of one who feels thatearthly power has over him no further sway. "What fear ye?" said he,turning to the kings, and still holding the poniard tight against hisbosom, as if to restrain the spirit from breathing forth through thewound. "There is no offence in the dead or in the dying. Hear me, Kingof England! and hear the truth, which thou wouldst never have heardfrom that false caitiff. Yet I have little time; the last moments ofexistence speed with fast wings towards another shore: give me a seat,for I am faint."
They instantly placed for him one of the settles; and after gazingaround for a moment with that sort of painful vacancy of eye thatspeaks how the brain reels, he made an effort, and went on, thoughless coherently. "All he has said is false. I am on the brink ofanother world, and I say it is false as the hell to which he is gone.Osborne Darnley, the good, the noble, and the true--the son of my bestand oldest friend--knew of no plot, heard of no treason. He was inEngland but two days when he fell into that traitor's hands. He neversaw Buckingham but once. The Osborne Maurice named in the duke'sletter is not he; one far less worthy."
"Who then is he?" cried the king impatiently. "Give me to know him, ifyou would have me believe. Never did I hear of such a name but inyears long past, an abettor of Perkyn Warbeck. Who then is this SirOsborne Maurice--ha? Mother of God! name him!"
"I--I--I--King of England!" cried the old man. "I, who, had he beenguided by me, would have taught Richard King of England, whom youstyle Perkyn Warbeck, to wrench the sceptre from the hand of yourusurping father; I, whose child was murdered by that dead traitor, incold blood, after the rout at Taunton; I--I it was who predicted toEdward Bohun that his head should be highest in the realm of England:I it is who predict it still!" As he spoke the last words, the old mansuddenly drew forth the blade of the dagger from his breast, uponwhich a full stream of blood instantly gushed forth and deluged theground. Still struggling with the departing spirit, he startedon his feet--put his hand to his brow. "I come! I come!" criedhe--reeled--shuddered--and fell dead beside his enemy.