by Clara Reeve
him, and he has restored me to his good opinion, which I prizeamong the best gifts of heaven. Your amiable brother William thinks wellof me, and his esteem is infinitely dear to me; and you, excellent Lady,permit me to hope that you honour me with your good opinion. Are notthese ample amends for the ill-will Mr. Wenlock bears me?"
"My opinion of you, Edmund," said she, "is fixed and settled. It isnot founded upon events of yesterday, but upon long knowledge andexperience; upon your whole conduct and character."
"You honour me, lady! Continue to think well of me, it will excite meto deserve it. When I am far distant from this place, the remembrance ofyour goodness will be a cordial to my heart."
"But why will you leave us, Edmund? Stay and defeat the designs of yourenemy; you shall have my wishes and assistance."
"Pardon me, Madam, that is among the things I cannot do, even if it werein my power, which it is not. Mr. Wenlock loves you, lady, and if he isso unhappy as to be your aversion, that is a punishment severe enough.For the rest, I may be unfortunate by the wickedness of others, but if Iam unworthy, it must be by my own fault."
"So then you think it is an unworthy action to oppose Mr. Wenlock! Verywell, sir. Then I suppose you wish him success; you wish that I may bemarried to him?"
"I, Madam!" said Edmund, confused; "what am I that I should give myopinion on an affair of so much consequence? You distress me by thequestion. May you be happy! may you enjoy your own wishes!"
He sighed, he turned away. She called him back; he trembled, and keptsilence.
She seemed to enjoy his confusion; she was cruel enough to repeat thequestion.
"Tell me, Edmund, and truly, do you wish to see me give my hand toWenlock? I insist upon your answer."
All on a sudden he recovered both his voice and courage; he steppedforward, his person erect, his countenance assured, his voice resoluteand intrepid.
"Since Lady Emma insists upon my answer, since she avows a dislike toWenlock, since she condescends to ask my opinion, I will tell her mythoughts, my wishes."
The fair Emma now trembled in her turn; she blushed, looked down, andwas ashamed to have spoken so freely.
Edmund went on. "My most ardent wishes are, that the fair Emma mayreserve her heart and hand till a certain person, a friend of mine, isat liberty to solicit them; whose utmost ambition is, first to deserve,and then to obtain them."
"Your friend, Sir!" said Lady Emma! her brow clouded, her eyedisdainful.
Edmund proceeded. "My friend is so particularly circumstanced that hecannot at present with propriety ask for Lady Emma's favour; but as soonas he has gained a cause that is yet in suspence, he will openly declarehis pretensions, and if he is unsuccessful, he will then condemn himselfto eternal silence."
Lady Emma knew not what to think of this declaration; she hoped, shefeared, she meditated; but her attention was too strongly excited tobe satisfied without some gratification; After a pause, she pursued thesubject.
"And this friend of yours, sir, of what degree and fortune is he?"
Edmund smiled; but, commanding his emotion, he replied, "His birth isnoble, his degree and fortune uncertain."
Her countenance fell, she sighed; he proceeded. "It is utterlyimpossible," said he, "for any man of inferior degree to aspire to LadyEmma's favour; her noble birth, the dignity of her beauty and virtues,must awe and keep at their proper distance, all men of inferior degreeand merit; they may admire, they may revere; but they must not presumeto approach too near, lest their presumption should meet with itspunishment."
"Well, sir," said she, suddenly; "and so this friend of yours hascommissioned you to speak in his behalf?"
"He has, Madam."
"Then I must tell you, that I think his assurance is very great, andyours not much less."
"I am sorry for that, Madam."
"Tell him, that I shall reserve my heart and hand for the man to whom myfather shall bid me give them."
"Very well, Lady; I am certain my lord loves you too well to dispose ofthem against your inclination."
"How do you know that, sir? But tell him, that the man that hopes for myfavour must apply to my lord for his."
"That is my friend's intention--his resolution, I should say--as soon ashe can do it with propriety; and I accept your permission for him to doso."
"My permission did you say? I am astonished at your assurance! tell meno more of your friend; But perhaps you are pleading for Wenlock allthis time; It is all one to me; only, say no more."
"Are you offended with me, madam?"
"No matter, sir."
"Yes, it is."
"I am surprised at you, Edmund."
"I am surprised at my own temerity; but, forgive me."
"It does not signify; good bye ty'e, sir."
"Don't leave me in anger, madam; I cannot bear that. Perhaps I may notsee you again for a long time."
He looked afflicted; she turned back. "I do forgive you, Edmund; Iwas concerned for you; but, it seems, you are more concerned for everybody than for yourself." She sighed; "Farewell!" said she.
Edmund gazed on her with tenderness; he approached her, he just touchedher hand; his heart was rising to his lips, but he recollected hissituation; he checked himself immediately; he retired back, he sigheddeeply, bowed low, and hastily quitted her.
The lady turning into another walk, he reached the house first, and wentup again to his chamber; he threw himself upon his knees; prayed for athousand blessings upon every one of the family of his benefactor, andinvoluntarily wept at mentioning the name of the charming Emma, whom hewas about to leave abruptly, and perhaps for ever. He then endeavouredto compose himself, and once more attended the Baron; wished him a goodnight; and withdrew to his chamber, till he was called upon to go againto the haunted apartment.
He came down equipped for his journey, and went hastily for fear ofobservation; he paid his customary devotions, and soon after Oswaldtapped at the door. They conferred together upon the interesting subjectthat engrossed their attention, until Joseph came to them, who broughtthe rest of Edmund's baggage, and some refreshment for him before heset out. Edmund promised to give them the earliest information of hissituation and success. At the hour of twelve they heard the samegroans as the night before in the lower apartment; but, being somewhatfamiliarized to it, they were not so strongly affected. Oswald crossedhimself, and prayed for the departed soul; he also prayed for Edmund,and recommended him to the Divine protection. He then arose, andembraced that young man; who, also, took a tender leave of his friendJoseph. They then went, with silence and caution, through a longgallery; they descended the stairs in the same manner; they crossed thehall in profound silence, and hardly dared to breathe, lest they shouldbe overheard; they found some difficulty in opening one of the foldingdoors, which at last they accomplished; they were again in jeopardy atthe outward gate. At length they conveyed him safely into the stables;there they again embraced him, and prayed for his prosperity.
He then mounted his horse, and set forward to Wyatt's cottage; hehallooed at the door, and was answered from within. In a few minutesJohn came out to him.
"What, is it you, Master Edmund?"
"Hush!" said he; "not a word of who I am; I go upon private business,and would not wish to be known."
"If you will go forward, sir, I will soon overtake you." He did so; andthey pursued their journey to the north. In the mean time, Oswaldand Joseph returned in silence into the house; they retired to theirrespective apartments without hearing or being heard by any one.
About the dawn of day Oswald intended to lay his packets in the way ofthose to whom they were addressed; after much contrivance he determinedto take a bold step, and, if he were discovered, to frame some excuse.Encouraged by his late success, he went on tip-toe into Master William'schamber, placed a letter upon his pillow, and withdrew unheard. Exultingin his heart, he attempted the Baron's apartment, but found it fastenedwithin. Finding this scheme frustrated, he waited till the hour theBaron was expected down to breakfast, a
nd laid the letter and the key ofthe haunted apartment upon the table. Soon after, he saw the Baronenter the breakfast room; he got out of sight, but staid within call,preparing himself for a summons. The Baron sat down to breakfast; he sawa letter directed to himself--he opened it, and to his great surprise,read as follows:--
"The guardian of the haunted apartment to Baron Fitz-Owen. To thee Iremit the key of my charge, until the right owner shall come, who willboth discover and avenge my wrongs; then, woe be to the guilty!--Butlet the innocent rest in peace. In the mean time, let none presumeto explore the secrets of my apartment, lest they suffer for theirtemerity."
The Baron was struck with amazement at the letter. He took up the key,examined it, then laid it