it."
Margery consented reluctantly to part with the jewels; and, after somefurther conversation, they took leave of her.
Edmund embraced her affectionately. "I thank you with my whole heart,"said he, "for all your goodness to me! Though I confess, I never feltmuch regard for your husband, yet for you I had always the tenderaffection of a son. You will, I trust, give your evidence in my behalfwhen called upon; and I hope it will one day be in my power to rewardyour kindness; In that case, I will own you as my foster-mother, and youshall always be treated as such."
Margery wept. "The Lord grant it!" said she; "and I pray him to have youin his holy keeping. Farewell, my dear child!"
Oswald desired them to separate for fear of intrusion; and they returnedto the castle. Margery stood at the door of her cottage, looking everyway to see if the coast was clear.
"Now, Sir," said Oswald, "I congratulate you as the son of Lord and LadyLovel; the proofs are strong and indisputable."
"To us they are so," said Edmund; "but how shall we make them so toothers? and what are we to think of the funeral of Lady Lovel?"
"As of a fiction," said Oswald; "the work of the present lord, to securehis title and fortune."
"And what means can we use to dispossess him?" said Edmund; "He is not aman for a poor youth like me to contend with."
"Doubt not," said Oswald, "but Heaven, who has evidently conducted youby the hand thus far, will complete its own work; for my part, I canonly wonder and adore!"
"Give me your advice then," said Edmund; "for Heaven assists us bynatural means."
"It seems to me," said Oswald, "that your first step must be to make afriend of some great man, of consequence enough to espouse your cause,and to get this affair examined into by authority."
Edmund started, and crossed himself; he suddenly exclaimed, "A friend!Yes; I have a friend! a powerful one too; one sent by Heaven to be myprotector, but whom I have too long neglected."
"Who can that be?" said Oswald.
"Who should it be," said Edmund, "but that good Sir Philip Harclay, thechosen friend of him, whom I shall from henceforward call my father."
"'Tis true indeed," said Oswald; "and this is a fresh proof of whatI before observed, that Heaven assists you, and will complete its ownwork."
"I think so myself," said Edmund, "and rely upon its direction. I havealready determined on my future conduct, which I will communicate toyou. My first step shall be to leave the castle; my lord has this daygiven me a horse, upon which I purpose to set out this very night,without the knowledge of any of the family. I will go to Sir PhilipHarclay; I will throw myself at his feet, relate my strange story, andimplore his protection; With him I will consult on the most proper wayof bringing this murderer to public justice; and I will be guided by hisadvice and direction in everything."
"Nothing can be better," said Oswald, "than what you propose; but giveme leave to offer an addition to your scheme. You shall set off in thedead of night, as you intend; Joseph and I, will favour your departurein such a manner as to throw a mystery over the circumstances of it.Your disappearing at such a time from the haunted apartment will terrifyand confound all the family; they will puzzle themselves in vain toaccount for it, and they will be afraid to pry into the secrets of thatplace."
"You say well, and I approve your addition," replied Edmund. "Suppose,likewise, there was a letter written in a mysterious manner, and droptin my lord's way, or sent to him afterwards; it would forward ourdesign, and frighten them away from that apartment." "That shall bemy care," said Oswald; "and I will warrant you that they will not findthemselves disposed to inhabit it presently."
"But how shall I leave my dear friend Mr. William, without a word ofnotice of this separation?"
"I have thought of that too," said Oswald; "and I will so manage, asto acquaint him with it in such a manner as he shall think out of thecommon course of things, and which shall make him wonder and be silent."
"How will you do that," said Edmund?
"I will tell you hereafter," said Oswald; "for here comes old Joseph tomeet us."
He came, indeed, as fast as his age would permit him. As soon as hewas within hearing, he asked them what news? They related all that hadpassed at Twyford's cottage; he heard them with the greatest eagernessof attention, and as soon as they came to the great event, "I knew it! Iknew it!" exclaimed Joseph; "I was sure it would prove so! Thank Godfor it! But I will be the first to acknowledge my young lord, and I willlive and die his faithful servant!" Here Joseph attempted to kneel tohim, but Edmund prevented him with a warm embrace.
"My friend! my dear friend!" said he, "I cannot suffer a man of your ageto kneel to me; are you not one of my best and truest friends? Iwill ever remember your disinterested affection for me; and if heavenrestores me to my rights, it shall be one of my first cares to renderyour old age easy and happy." Joseph wept over him, and it was some timebefore he could utter a word.
Oswald gave them both time to recover their emotion, by acquaintingJoseph with Edmund's scheme for his departure. Joseph wiped his eyes andspoke. "I have thought," said he, "of something that will be both agree and useful to my dear master. John Wyatt, Sir Philip Harclay's servant,is now upon a visit at his father's; I have heard that he goes homesoon; now he would be both a guide and companion, on the way."
"That is, indeed, a happy circumstance," said Edmund; "but how shall weknow certainly the time of his departure?"
"Why, Sir, I will go to him, and enquire; and bring you word directly."
"Do so," said Edmund, "and you will oblige me greatly."
"But, Sir," said Oswald, "I think it will be best not to let JohnWyatt know who is to be his companion; only let Joseph tell him that agentleman is going to visit his master, and, if possible, prevail uponhim to set out this night."
"Do so, my good friend," said Edmund; "and tell him, further, that thisperson has business of great consequence to communicate to his master,and cannot delay his journey on any account."
"I will do this, you may depend," said Joseph, "and acquaint you with mysuccess as soon as possible; but, sir, you must not go without a guide,at any rate."
"I trust I shall not," said Edmund, "though I go alone; he that hasreceived such a call as I have, can want no other, nor fear any danger."
They conversed on these points till they drew near the castle, whenJoseph left them to go on his errand, and Edmund attended his Lordat dinner. The Baron observed that he was silent and reserved; theconversation languished on both sides. As soon as dinner was ended,Edmund asked permission to go up into his own apartment; where he packedup some necessaries, and made a hasty preparation for his departure.
Afterwards he walked into the garden, revolving in his mind thepeculiarity of his situation, and the uncertainty of his futureprospects; lost in thought, he walked to and fro in a covered walk, withhis arms crossed and his eyes cast down, without perceiving that he wasobserved by two females who stood at a distance watching his motions. Itwas the Lady Emma, and her attendant, who were thus engaged. At length,he lifted up his eyes and saw them; he stood still, and was irresolutewhether to advance or retire. They approached him; and, as they drewnear, fair Emma spoke.
"You have been so wrapt in meditation, Edmund, that I am apprehensive ofsome new vexation that I am yet a stranger to. Would it were in my powerto lessen those you have already! But tell me if I guess truly?"
He stood still irresolute, he answered with hesitation. "O, lady--Iam--I am grieved, I am concerned, to be the cause of so much confusionin this noble family, to which I am so much indebted; I see no way tolessen these evils but to remove the cause of them."
"Meaning yourself?" said she.
"Certainly, Madam; and I was meditating on my departure."
"But," said she, "by your departure you will not remove the cause."
"How so, madam?"
"Because you are not the cause, but those you will leave behind you."
"Lady Emma!"
"How can you affect this
ignorance, Edmund? You know well enough it isthat odious Wenlock, your enemy and my aversion, that has caused allthis mischief among us, and will much more, if he is not removed."
"This, madam, is a subject that it becomes me to be silent upon. Mr.Wenlock is your kinsman; he is not my friend; and for that reason Iought not to speak against him, nor you to hear it from me. If he hasused me ill, I am recompensed by the generous treatment of my lord yourfather, who is all that is great and good; he has allowed me to justifymyself to