Now fare thee well, my master--if true service

Be guerdon'd with hard looks, e'en cut the tow-line,

And let our barks across the pathless flood

Hold different courses--THE SHIPWRECK.

Tressilian walked into the outer yard of the Castle scarce knowing what

to think of his late strange and most unexpected interview with Amy

Robsart, and dubious if he had done well, being entrusted with the

delegated authority of her father, to pass his word so solemnly to leave

her to her own guidance for so many hours. Yet how could he have denied

her request--dependent as she had too probably rendered herself upon

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Varney? Such was his natural reasoning. The happiness of her future

life might depend upon his not driving her to extremities; and since no

authority of Tressilian's could extricate her from the power of Varney,

supposing he was to acknowledge Amy to be his wife, what title had he

to destroy the hope of domestic peace, which might yet remain to her,

by setting enmity betwixt them? Tressilian resolved, therefore,

scrupulously to observe his word pledged to Amy, both because it had

been given, and because, as he still thought, while he considered and

reconsidered that extraordinary interview, it could not with justice or

propriety have been refused.

In one respect, he had gained much towards securing effectual protection

for this unhappy and still beloved object of his early affection. Amy

was no longer mewed up in a distant and solitary retreat under the

charge of persons of doubtful reputation. She was in the Castle of

Kenilworth, within the verge of the Royal Court for the time, free from

all risk of violence, and liable to be produced before Elizabeth on

the first summons. These were circumstances which could not but assist

greatly the efforts which he might have occasion to use in her behalf.

While he was thus balancing the advantages and perils which attended her

unexpected presence in Kenilworth, Tressilian was hastily and anxiously

accosted by Wayland, who, after ejaculating, "Thank God, your worship is

found at last!" proceeded with breathless caution to pour into his ear

the intelligence that the lady had escaped from Cumnor Place.

"And is at present in this Castle," said Tressilian. "I know it, and

I have seen her. Was it by her own choice she found refuge in my

apartment?"

"No," answered Wayland; "but I could think of no other way of safely

bestowing her, and was but too happy to find a deputy-usher who knew

where you were quartered--in jolly society truly, the hall on the one

hand, and the kitchen on the other!"




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