“Sir,” said Oswald, “I answer as Joseph does; I would sooner die than discover a secret revealed in that manner.”
“I thought as much,” said Sir Robert; “there is a mystery in Father Oswald’s behaviour, that I cannot comprehend.”
“Do not reflect upon the father,” said the baron; “I have no cause to complain of him; perhaps the mystery may be too soon explained; but let us not anticipate evils. Oswald and Joseph have spoken like good men; I am satisfied with their answers; let us, who are innocent, rest in peace; and let us endeavour to restore peace in the family; and do you, father, assist us.”
“With my best services,” said Oswald. He called the servants in. “Let nothing be mentioned out of doors,” said he, “of what has lately passed within, especially in the east apartment; the young gentlemen had not so much reason to be frightened as they apprehended; a piece of furniture fell down in the rooms underneath, which made the noise that alarmed them so much; but I can certify that all things in the rooms are in quiet, and there is nothing to fear. All of you attend me in the chapel in an hour; do your duties, put your trust in God, and obey your Lord, and you will find everything go right as it used to do.”
They dispersed; the sun rose, the day came on, and everything went on in the usual course; but the servants were not so easily satisfied; they whispered that something was wrong, and expected the time that should set all right. The mind of the baron was employed in meditating upon these circumstances, that seemed to him the forerunners of some great events; he sometimes thought of Edmund; he sighed for his expulsion, and lamented the uncertainty of his fate; but, to his family, he appeared easy and satisfied.
From the time of Edmund’s departure, the fair Emma had many uneasy hours; she wished to enquire after him, but feared to show any solicitude concerning him. The next day, when her brother William came into her apartment, she took courage to ask a question.
“Pray, brother, can you give any guess what is become of Edmund?”
“No,” said he, with a sigh; “why do you ask me?”
“Because, my dear William, I should think if anybody knew, it must be you; and I thought he loved you too well to leave you in ignorance. But don’t you think he left the castle in a very strange manner?”
“I do, my dear; there is a mystery in every circumstance of his departure; Nevertheless (I will trust you with a secret), he did not leave the castle without making a distinction in my favour.”
“I thought so,” said she; “but you might tell me what you know about him.”
“Alas, my dear Emma! I know nothing. When I saw him last, he seemed a good deal affected, as if he were taking leave of me; and I had a foreboding that we parted for a longer time than usual.”
“Ah! so had I,” said she, “when he parted from me in the garden.”
“What leave did he take of you, Emma?”
She blushed, and hesitated to tell him all that passed between them; but he begged, persuaded, insisted; and, at length, under the strongest injunctions of secrecy, she told him all.
He said, “That Edmund’s behaviour on that occasion was as mysterious as the rest of his conduct; but, now you have revealed your secret, you have a right to know mine.”
He then gave her the letter he found upon his pillow; she read it with great emotion.
“Saint Winifred assist me!” said she; “what can I think? ‘The peasant Edmund is no more, but there lives one,’—that is to my thinking, Edmund lives, but is no peasant.”
“Go on, my dear,” said William; “I like your explanation.”
“Nay, brother, I only guess; but what think you?”
“I believe we think alike in more than one respect, that he meant to recommend no other person than himself to your favour; and, if he were indeed of noble birth, I would prefer him to a prince for a husband to my Emma!”
“Bless me!” said she, “do you think it possible that he should be of either birth or fortune?”
“It is hard to say what is impossible! we have proof that the east apartment is haunted. It was there that Edmund was made acquainted with many secrets, I doubt not: and, perhaps, his own fate may be involved in that of others. I am confident that what he saw and heard there, was the cause of his departure. We must wait with patience the unravelling this intricate affair; I believe I need not enjoin your secrecy as to what I have said; your heart will be my security.”
“What mean you, brother?”
“Don’t affect ignorance, my dear; you love Edmund, so do I; it is nothing to be ashamed of. It would have been strange, if a girl of your good sense had not distinguished a swan among a flock of geese.”
“Dear William, don’t let a word of this escape you; but you have taken a weight off my heart. You may depend that I will not dispose of my hand or heart till I know the end of this affair.”
William smiled: “Keep them for Edmund’s friend; I shall rejoice to see him in a situation to ask them.”
“Hush, my brother! not a word more; I hear footsteps.”
They were her eldest brother’s, who came to ask Mr. William to ride out with him, which finished the conference.
The fair Emma from this time assumed an air of satisfaction; and William frequently stole away from his companions to talk with his sister upon their favourite subject.
While these things passed at the castle of Lovel, Edmund and his companion John Wyatt proceeded on their journey to Sir Philip Harclay’s seat; they conversed together on the way, and Edmund found him a man of understanding, though not improved by education; he also discovered that John loved his master, and respected him even to veneration;
