e worse, I will
throw no obstacle in the way of your confession, should you resolve to
make it; I will even use that influence which you leave me, to palliate
your offence, to win your pardon. And yet to resign your hopes--to
surrender one so loved to the arms of one so hated--it is
magnanimous--it is noble--it is above my standard! Do as you will."

Cesarini was about to reply, when a servant on horseback abruptly
turned the corner, almost at full speed. He pulled in--his eye fell upon
Lumley--he dismounted.

"Oh, Mr. Ferrers," said the man breathlessly, "I have been to your
house; they told me I might find you at Lord Saxingham's--I was just
going there--"

"Well, well, what is the matter?"

"My poor master, sir--my lord, I mean--"

"What of him?"

"Had a fit, sir--the doctors are with him--my mistress--for my lord
can't speak--sent me express for you."

"Lend me your horse--there, just lengthen the stirrups."

While the groom was engaged at the saddle, Ferrers turned to Cesarini.
"Do nothing rashly," said he; "I would say, if I might, nothing at
all, without consulting me; but mind, I rely, at all events, on your
promise--your oath."

"You may," said Cesarini, gloomily.

"Farewell, then," said Lumley, as he mounted; and in a few moments he
was out of sight.

CHAPTER II.

"O world, thou wast the forest to this hart,

* * * * *

Dost thou here lie?"--_Julius Caesar_.

AS Lumley leapt from his horse at his uncle's door, the disorder and
bustle of those demesnes, in which the severe eye of the master usually
preserved a repose and silence as complete as if the affairs of life
were carried on by clockwork, struck upon him sensibly. Upon the trim
lawn the old women employed in cleaning and weeding the walks were all
assembled in a cluster, shaking their heads ominously in concert, and
carrying on their comments in a confused whisper. In the hall, the
housemaid (and it was the first housemaid whom Lumley had ever seen in
that house, so invisibly were the wheels of the domestic machine carried
on) was leaning on her broom, "swallowing with open mouth a footman's
news." It was as if, with the first slackening of the rigid rein, human
nature broke loose from the conventual stillness in which it had ever
paced its peaceful path in that formal mansion.

"How is he?"

"My lord is better, sir; he has spoken, I believe."

At this moment a young face, swollen and red with weeping, looked down
from