He then took Oswald aside, and charged him not to let Edmund go out of his sight; for if he should come in the way of those implacable enemies, he trembled for the consequences. He then walked back to the stables, and the two friends returned into the house.
They had a long conversation on various subjects; in the course of it, Edmund acquainted Oswald with all that had passed between him and Joseph the preceding night, the curiosity he had raised in him, and his promise to gratify it the night following.
“I wish,” said Oswald, “you would permit me to be one of your party.”
“How can that be?” said Edmund; “we shall be watched, perhaps; and, if discovered, what excuse can you make for coming there? Beside, if it were known, I shall be branded with the imputation of cowardice; and, though I have borne much, I will not promise to bear that patiently.”
“Never fear,” replied Oswald, “I will speak to Joseph about it; and, after prayers are over and the family gone to bed, I will steal away from my own chamber and come to you. I am strongly interested in your affairs; and I cannot be easy unless you will receive me into your company; I will bind myself to secrecy in any manner you shall enjoin.”
“Your word is sufficient,” said Edmund; “I have as much reason to trust you, father, as any man living; I should be ungrateful to refuse you anything in my power to grant; But suppose the apartment should really be haunted, would you have resolution enough to pursue the adventure to a discovery?”
“I hope so,” said Oswald; “but have you any reason to believe it is?”
“I have,” said Edmund; “but I have not opened my lips upon this subject to any creature but yourself. This night I purpose, if Heaven permit, to go all over the rooms; and, though I had formed this design, I will confess that your company will strengthen my resolution. I will have no reserves to you in any respect; but I must put a seal upon your lips.”
Oswald swore secrecy till he should be permitted to disclose the mysteries of that apartment; and both of them waited, in solemn expectation, the event of the approaching night.
In the afternoon Mr. William was allowed to visit his friend. An affecting interview passed between them. He lamented the necessity of Edmund’s departure; and they took a solemn leave of each other, as if they foreboded it would be long ere they should meet again.
About the same hour as the preceding evening, Joseph came to conduct Edmund to his apartment.
“You will find better accommodations than you had last night,” said he, “and all by my lord’s own order.”
“I every hour receive some new proof of his goodness,” said Edmund.
When they arrived, he found a good fire in the chamber, and a table covered with cold meats, and a flagon of strong beer.
“Sit down and get your supper, my dear master,” said Joseph: “I must attend my Lord; but as soon as the family are gone to bed, I will visit you again.”
“Do so,” said Edmund; “but first, see Father Oswald; he has something to say to you. You may trust him, for I have no reserves to him.”
“Well, Sir, I will see him if you desire it; and I will come to you as soon as possible.” So saying, he went his way, and Edmund sat down to supper.
After a moderate refreshment, he kneeled down, and prayed with the greatest fervency. He resigned himself to the disposal of Heaven: “I am nothing,” said he, “I desire to be nothing but what thou, O Lord, pleasest to make me. If it is thy will that I should return to my former obscurity, be it obeyed with cheerfulness; and, if thou art pleased to exalt me, I will look up to thee, as the only fountain of honour and dignity.” While he prayed, he felt an enlargement of heart beyond what he had ever experienced before; all idle fears were dispersed, and his heart glowed with divine love and affiance;—he seemed raised above the world and all its pursuits. He continued wrapt up in mental devotion, till a knocking at the door obliged him to rise, and let in his two friends, who came without shoes, and on tiptoe, to visit him.
“Save you, my son!” said the friar; “you look cheerful and happy.”
“I am so, father,” said Edmund; “I have resigned myself to the disposal of Heaven, and I find my heart strengthened above what I can express.”
“Heaven be praised!” said Oswald: “I believe you are designed for great things, my son.”
“What! do you too encourage my ambition?” says Edmund; “strange concurrence of circumstances!—Sit down, my friends; and do you, my good Joseph, tell me the particulars you promised last night.” They drew their chairs round the fire, and Joseph began as follows:—
“You have heard of the untimely death of the late Lord Lovel, my noble and worthy master; perhaps you may have also heard that, from that time, this apartment was haunted. What passed the other day, when my lord questioned you both on this head, brought all the circumstances fresh into my mind. You then said, there were suspicions that he came not fairly to his end. I trust you both, and will speak what I know of it. There was a person suspected of this murder; and whom do you think it was?”
“You must speak out,” said Oswald.
“Why then,” said Joseph, “it was the present Lord Lovel.”
“You speak my thoughts,” said Oswald; “but proceed to the proofs.”
“I will,” said Joseph.
“From the time that my lord’s death was reported, there were strange whisperings and consultations between the new lord and some of the servants; there was a deal of private business carried on in this apartment. Soon after,
