“Sir,” replied he, “it was not merely by human means this fact was discovered. There is a certain apartment in the Castle of Lovel, that has been shut up these one and twenty years, but has lately been opened and examined into.”
“O Heaven!” exclaimed he, “then Geoffry must have betrayed me!”
“No, sir, he has not; it was revealed in a very extraordinary manner to that youth whom it most concerns.”
“How can he be the heir of Lovel?”
“By being the son of that unfortunate woman, whom you cruelly obliged to leave her own house, to avoid being compelled to wed the murderer of her husband: we are not ignorant, moreover, of the fictitious funeral you made for her. All is discovered, and you will not tell us any more than we know already; but we desire to have it confirmed by your confession.”
“The judgments of Heaven are fallen upon me!” said Lord Lovel. “I am childless, and one is arisen from the grave to claim my inheritance.”
“Nothing, then, hinders you to do justice and make restitution; it is for the ease of your conscience; and you have no other way of making atonement for all the mischief you have done.”
“You know too much,” said the criminal, “and I will relate what you do not know.”
“You may remember,” proceeded he, “that I saw you once at my uncle’s house?”
“I well remember it.”
“At that time my mind was disturbed by the baleful passion of envy; it was from that root all my bad actions sprung.”
“Praise be to God!” said the good priest; “he hath touched your heart with true contrition, and you show the effect of his mercies; you will do justice, and you will be rewarded by the gift of repentance unto salvation.”
Sir Philip desired the penitent to proceed.
“My kinsman excelled me in every kind of merit, in the graces of person and mind, in all his exercises, and in every accomplishment. I was totally eclipsed by him, and I hated to be in his company; but what finished my aversion, was his addressing the lady upon whom I had fixed my affections. I strove to rival him there, but she gave him the preference that, indeed, was only his due; but I could not bear to see, or acknowledge, it.
“The most bitter hatred took possession of my breast, and I vowed to revenge the supposed injury as soon as opportunity should offer. I buried my resentment deep in my heart, and outwardly appeared to rejoice at his success. I made a merit of resigning my pretensions to him, but I could not bear to be present at his nuptials; I retired to my father’s seat, and brooded over my revenge in secret. My father died this year, and soon after my uncle followed him; within another year my kinsman was summoned to attend the king on his Welch expedition.
“As soon as I heard he was gone from home, I resolved to prevent his return, exulting in the prospect of possessing his title, fortune, and his lady. I hired messengers, who were constantly going and coming to give me intelligence of all that passed at the castle; I went there soon after, under pretence of visiting my kinsman. My spies brought me an account of all that happened; one informed me of the event of the battle, but could not tell whether my rival was living or dead; I hoped the latter, that I might avoid the crime I meditated. I reported his death to his Lady, who took it very heavily.
“Soon after a messenger arrived with tidings that he was alive and well, and had obtained leave to return home immediately.
“I instantly dispatched my two emissaries to intercept him on the way. He made so much haste to return, that he was met within a mile of his own castle; he had outrode his servants, and was alone. They killed him, and drew him aside out of the highway. They then came to me with all speed, and desired my orders; it was then about sunset. I sent them back to fetch the dead body, which they brought privately into the castle: they tied it neck and heels, and put it into a trunk, which they buried under the floor in the closet you mentioned. The sight of the body stung me to the heart; I then felt the pangs of remorse, but it was too late; I took every precaution that prudence suggested to prevent the discovery; but nothing can be concealed from the eye of Heaven.
“From that fatal hour I have never known peace, always in fear of something impending to discover my guilt, and to bring me to shame; at length I am overtaken by justice. I am brought to a severe reckoning here, and I dread to meet one more severe hereafter.”
“Enough,” said the priest; “you have done a good work, my son! trust in the Lord; and, now this burden is off your mind, the rest will be made easy to you.”
Lord Lovel took a minute’s repose, and then went on.
“I hope by the hint you gave, Sir Philip, the poor lady is yet alive?”
“No, sir, she is not; but she died not till after she brought forth a son, whom Heaven made its instrument to discover and avenge the death of both his parents.”
“They are well avenged!” said he. “I have no children to lament for me; all mine have been taken from me in the bloom of youth; only one daughter lived to be twelve years old; I intended her for a wife for one of my nephews, but within three months I have buried her.” He sighed, wept, and was silent.
The gentlemen present lifted up their hands and eyes to Heaven in silence.
“The will of Heaven be obeyed!” said the priest. “My penitent hath confessed all; what more
