one now? [_Christopher retires up the stage._

_Enter_ Baron Ravensburg _and_ Oliver.

_Oliver._ I tell you, my lord, I'm sure Agnes will be found
innocent--but I'm silent.

_Baron._ Be silent, then. And for you, madam, I came to tell you that
the priest is sent for, and my son is sent for; and I shan't stir out of
this room till I witness the glorious union of the Rolands and the
Ravensburgs.

_Ul._ (_archly._) Your son! your son is absent, then!

_Bar._ He is: but the countess has undertaken to see him brought home;
and I don't know who she alludes to, but it seems she talks of catching
more troublesome people. [_Here Ulrica makes signs to Christopher to be
gone, and he steals towards the stage door, behind the baron and
Oliver_] And so, Oliver, bring me a chair, old Oliver; [Oliver _gives
him one_] for here I'll sit.--[_Christopher opens the door, and is
going, when the baron hears him._]--Why, what's that? [_In his agitation
Christopher turns sharply round, and faces the baron, holding the door
wide open in his hand._] Zounds! where do you come from?

_Chris._ Come! I come from---- [_Amazed._

_Bar._ Ay, what brings you, sir? And don't--don't stand staring there
with the door open. Either (_beating his cane violently against the
floor_) either come in or go out.

_Chris._ Out, if you please, sir. [_Exit._

_Bar._ (_pulling him back_) Stop; this won't do. How came you in my
house?

_Chris._ (_confused_) Came! why I came from young count Roland, sir.

_Bar._ Oh! you want to see the countess, then.

_Chris._ Thank ye, I have seen her; and as her answer isn't at all
satisfactory, I hope shortly to return, and take something much more
satisfactory. _Looking significantly at_ Ulrica, _and going_, Ulrica
_nods in return._

_Ol._ (_coming between him and the door._) I dare say you do; but--he!
he! he! the little old butler will prevent you. My lord, just now,
instead of a message from count Roland, this fellow talk'd of your
keeping low company.--(_Christopher shakes his head to stop him._) You
did! you actually hinted, that one of our fine ladies was no better than
old Winifred Winbuttle, a housekeeper--

_Bar._ Dolt! blockhead! (_to Christopher_) when, except this untitled
girl, there is not one plain lady, no, nor one real gentlewoman in the
whole party; and she, as heiress and sole relation of the high-born
countess Roland----

_Chris._ The sole relation of who?

_Bar._