came to Sir Philip, he threw himself into his arms, he wept, he
was overpowered with the feelings of his heart; he prayed to Heaven to
strengthen his mind to support his inexpressible sensations.

"I am overwhelmed with obligation," said he; "oh, best of friends, teach
me, like you, to make my actions speak for me!"

"Enough, Edmund; I know your heart, and that is my security. My lord,
speak to him, and bring him to himself, by behaving coldly to him, if
you can."

The Baron said, "I must not trust myself with you, you make a child
of me. I will only add, gain my son Robert's favour, and be assured of
mine; I owe some respect to the heir of my family; he is brave, honest,
and sincere; your enemies are separated from him, you have William's
influence in your behalf; make one effort, and let me know the result."

Edmund kissed his hand in transports of joy and gratitude.

"I will not lose a moment," said he; "I fly to obey your commands."

Edmund went immediately to his friend William, and related all that had
passed between the Baron, Sir Philip, and himself. William promised him
his interest in the warmest manner; he recapitulated all that had passed
in the castle since his departure; but he guarded his sister's delicacy,
till it should be resolved to give way to his address. They both
consulted young Clifford, who had conceived an affection to Edmund for
his amiable qualities, and to William for his generous friendship for
him. He promised them his assistance, as Sir Robert seemed desirous to
cultivate his friendship. Accordingly, they both attacked him with the
whole artillery of friendship and persuasion. Clifford urged the merits
of Edmund, and the advantages of his alliance. William enforced his
arguments by a retrospect of Edmund's past life; and observed, that
every obstacle thrown in his way had brought his enemies to shame, and
increase of honour to himself. "I say nothing," continued he, "of his
noble qualities and affectionate heart; those who have been so many
years his companions, can want no proofs of it."

"We know your attachment to him, sir," said Sir Robert; "and, in
consequence, your partiality."

"Nay," replied William, "you are sensible of the truth of my assertions;
and, I am confident, would have loved him yourself, but for the
insinuations of his enemies. But if he should make good his assertions,
even you must be convinced of his veracity."

"And you would have my father give him your