ess; but now
there fell a subtle silence that presaged the coming of an unwholesome
visitant. In a room apart lay Adrian Cantemir, weak and sick, but
cursing every breath he drew; excited at times to actual madness, and
saying,--Why had he come a minute too late? Why had he not followed
his own inclinations and broken away from the gambling table at the
inn an hour earlier? such thoughts making him absolutely furious.

He had arrived some time after dark at Crandlemar village, and,
putting up at the hostelry, he resolved to pay his visit to the castle
early on the morrow. He was now beginning to feel that he was destined
to gain his point, or why had he so far thwarted Lord Cedric, and why
had he escaped the anger of the monks by a well worded and quickly
manufactured tale, and even gained their help by it, when they found
him bound in the passage, left so by Buckingham. So he had felt
somewhat at ease, but love and ambition were strong and stirred him to
leave wine and cards and ride out into the open; and, unwitting it may
be, to the castle gates. He travelled without groom; so fastening his
horse, he entered the avenue a-foot, soon reaching the dark pile of
stone which appeared in absolute darkness. Aimlessly he left the
avenue and sauntered across the terraces. He had heard a peculiar low
murmuring of voices and drew near only to hear Katherine made the
wife of another man; hardly understanding until the Chaplain gave the
blessing. He knew what Katherine did not; that she was the wife of
Lord Cedric and not Sir Julian. He flung himself with all his fury
upon the bridegroom to no avail, as has been seen.

These inflammable thoughts, as Cantemir rehearsed them over and over,
set his brain afire and before night he was in a fever. The kind and
gentle Lady Bettie Payne, who had arrived late in the afternoon, had
gathered nosegays and made bright his chamber, for she truly had
compassion upon him. He called her Katherine, as she gave him cooling
draughts with her own hand.

Lord Cedric was somewhat surprised the next evening to that of his
wedding to see the Duke of Buckingham standing in the great hall of
the castle. And when the Duke's business was thrust upon him, there
came also dark forebodings; a separation of indefinite length from his
young wife, should he be taken to the Tower. Great was his surprise
at the Duke's first words, for they were that Katherine's father was
alive and well and in London. He gave qui