He was preparing to descend the staircase, when he heard several knocks at the door by which he first entered the room; and, stepping backward, the door was clapped to with great violence. Again fear attacked him, but he resisted it, and boldly cried out, “Who is there?”
A voice at the outer door answered, “It’s I; Joseph, your friend!”
“What do you want?” said Edmund.
“I have brought you some wood to make a fire,” said Joseph.
“I thank you kindly,” said Edmund; “but my lamp is gone out; I will try to find the door, however.”
After some trouble he found, and opened it; and was not sorry to see his friend Joseph, with a light in one hand, a flagon of beer in the other, and a fagot upon his shoulder. “I come,” said the good old man, “to bring you something to keep up your spirits; the evening is cold; I know this room wants airing; and beside that, my master, I think your present undertaking requires a little assistance.”
“My good friend,” said Edmund, “I never shall be able to deserve or requite your kindness to me.”
“My dear sir, you always deserved more than I could do for you; and I think I shall yet live to see you defeat the designs of your enemies, and acknowledge the services of your friends.”
“Alas!” said Edmund, “I see little prospect of that!”
“I see,” said Joseph, “something that persuades me you are designed for great things; and I perceive that things are working about to some great end: have courage, my master, my heart beats strangely high upon your account!”
“You make me smile,” said Edmund.
“I am glad to see it, sir; may you smile all the rest of your life!”
“I thank your honest affection,” returned Edmund, “though it is too partial to me. You had better go to bed, however; if it is known that you visit me here, it will be bad for us both.”
“So I will presently; but, please God, I will come here again tomorrow night, when all the family are abed; and I will tell you some things that you never yet heard.”
“But pray tell me,” said Edmund, “where does that door lead to?”
“Upon a passage that ends in a staircase that leads to the lower rooms; and there is likewise a door out of that passage into the dining-room.”
“And what rooms are there below stairs,” said Edmund?
“The same as above,” replied he.
“Very well; then I wish you a good night, we will talk further tomorrow.”
“Aye, tomorrow night; and in this place, my dear master.”
“Why do you call me your master? I never was, nor ever can be, your master.”
“God only knows that,” said the good old man; “good night, and heaven bless you!”
“Good night, my worthy friend!”
Joseph withdrew, and Edmund returned to the other door, and attempted several times to open it in vain; his hands were benumbed and tired; at length he gave over. He made a fire in the chimney, placed the lamp on a table, and opened one of the window-shutters to admit the daylight; he then recommended himself to the Divine protection, and threw himself upon the bed; he presently fell asleep, and continued in that state, till the sun saluted him with his orient beams through the window he had opened.
As soon as he was perfectly awake, he strove to recollect his dreams. He thought that he heard people coming up the staircase that he had a glimpse of; that the door opened, and there entered a warrior, leading a lady by the hand, who was young and beautiful, but pale and wan; The man was dressed in complete armour, and his helmet down. They approached the bed; they undrew the curtains. He thought the man said, “Is this our child?” The woman replied, “It is; and the hour approaches that he shall be known for such.” They then separated, and one stood on each side of the bed; their hands met over his head, and they gave him a solemn benediction. He strove to rise and pay them his respects, but they forbad him; and the lady said, “Sleep in peace, oh my Edmund! for those who are the true possessors of this apartment are employed in thy preservation; sleep on, sweet hope of a house that is thought past hope!”
Upon this, they withdrew, and went out at the same door by which they entered, and he heard them descend the stairs. After this, he followed a funeral as chief mourner; he saw the whole procession, and heard the ceremonies performed. He was snatched away from this mournful scene to one of a contrary kind, a stately feast, at which he presided; and he heard himself congratulated as a husband, and a father; his friend William sat by his side; and his happiness was complete. Every succeeding idea was happiness without allay; and his mind was not idle a moment till the morning sun awakened him. He perfectly remembered his dreams, and meditated on what all these things should portend. “Am I then,” said he, “not Edmund Twyford, but somebody of consequence in whose fate so many people are interested? Vain thought, that must have arisen from the partial suggestion of my two friends, Mr. William and old Joseph.”
He lay thus reflecting, when a servant knocked at his door, and told him it was past six o’clock, and that the baron expected him to breakfast in an hour. He rose immediately; paid his tribute of thanks to heaven for its protection, and went from his chamber in
