He then mounted his horse, and set forward to Wyatt’s cottage; he hallooed at the door, and was answered from within. In a few minutes John 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; and they pursued their journey to the north. In the meantime, Oswald and Joseph returned in silence into the house; they retired to their respective apartments without hearing or being heard by anyone.
About the dawn of day Oswald intended to lay his packets in the way of those to whom they were addressed; after much contrivance he determined to take a bold step, and, if he were discovered, to frame some excuse. Encouraged by his late success, he went on tiptoe into Master William’s chamber, placed a letter upon his pillow, and withdrew unheard. Exulting in his heart, he attempted the baron’s apartment, but found it fastened within. Finding this scheme frustrated, he waited till the hour the baron was expected down to breakfast, and laid the letter and the key of the haunted apartment upon the table. Soon after, he saw the baron enter the breakfast room; he got out of sight, but stayed within call, preparing himself for a summons. The baron sat down to breakfast; he saw a 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 I remit the key of my charge, until the right owner shall come, who will both discover and avenge my wrongs; then, woe be to the guilty!—But let the innocent rest in peace. In the meantime, let none presume to explore the secrets of my apartment, lest they suffer for their temerity.
The baron was struck with amazement at the letter. He took up the key, examined it, then laid it down, and took up the letter; he was in such confusion of thought, he knew not what to do or say for several minutes. At length he called his servants about him; the first question he asked was—
“Where is Edmund?”
They could not tell.
“Has he been called?”
“Yes, my Lord, but nobody answered, and the key was not in the door.”
“Where is Joseph?”
“Gone into the stables.”
“Where is father Oswald?”
“In his study.”
“Seek him, and desire him to come hither.”
By the time the baron had read the letter over again, he came.
He had been framing a steady countenance to answer to all interrogatories. As he came in he attentively observed the baron, whose features were in strong agitation; as soon as he saw Oswald, he spoke as one out of breath.
“Take that key, and read this letter!”
He did so, shrugged up his shoulders, and remained silent.
“Father,” said my lord, “what think you of this letter?”
“It is a very surprising one.”
“The contents are alarming. Where is Edmund?”
“I do not know.”
“Has nobody seen him?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Call my sons, my kinsmen, my servants.”
The servants came in.
“Have any of you seen or heard of Edmund?”
“No,” was the answer.
“Father, step upstairs to my sons and kinsmen, and desire them to come down immediately.”
Oswald withdrew; and went, first, to Mr. William’s chamber.
“My dear sir, you must come to my lord now directly—he has something extraordinary to communicate to you.”
“And so have I, father—see what I have found upon my pillow!”
“Pray, sir, read it to me before you show it to anybody; my lord is alarmed too much already, and wants nothing to increase his consternation.”
William read his letter, while Oswald looked as if he was an utter stranger to the contents, which were these:—
Whatever may be heard or seen, let the seal of friendship be upon thy lips. The peasant Edmund is no more; but there still lives a man who hopes to acknowledge, and repay, the Lord Fitz-Owen’s generous care and protection; to return his beloved William’s vowed affection, and to claim his friendship on terms of equality.
“What,” said William, “can this mean?”
“It is not easy to say,” replied Oswald.
“Can you tell what is the cause of this alarm?”
“I can tell you nothing, but that my lord desires to see you directly—pray make haste down; I must go up to your brothers and kinsmen, nobody knows what to think, or believe.”
Master William went downstairs, and Father Oswald went to the malcontents. As soon as he entered the outward door of their apartment, Mr. Wenlock called out. “Here comes the friend—now for some new proposal!”
“Gentlemen,” said Oswald, “my lord desires your company immediately in the breakfast parlour.”
“What! to meet your favourite Edmund, I suppose?” said Mr. Wenlock.
“No, sir.”
“What, then, is the matter?” said Sir Robert.
“Something very extraordinary has happened, gentlemen. Edmund is not to be found—he disappeared from the haunted apartment, the
