ll spare you
pain. You shall see that the proposal will come from the Duke
himself."
Wilton smiled; and we cannot think that he was much to blame if there
was some pleasure mingled in his feelings at the thought of soon and
easily obtaining her he loved, even though he experienced repugnance
to the means which the Earl proposed to employ. He resolved,
therefore, to let the matter take its course, feeling very sure that
the result of the Duke's present situation would be much affected,
and his liberation greatly facilitated, by suffering the Earl to
manage the matter in his own way.
He took the order, then, and proceeded at once to the Tower, where,
through walls, and palisades, and courts, he was led to that part of
the building reserved for the confinement of state prisoners. There
was nothing very formidable or very gloomy in the appearance of the
rooms and corridors through which he passed; but the sentry at the
gates, the locked doors, the turning of keys, announced that he was
in a place from which ever-smiling liberty was excluded; and the very
first aspect of the Duke, when his young friend was admitted to the
apartments assigned to that nobleman, showed how deeply he felt the
loss of freedom. In the few hours that had passed since Wilton last
saw him, he had turned very pale; and though still slightly lame, he
was walking up and down the room with hasty and irregular steps. The
sound of the opening door made him start and turn round with a look
of nervous apprehension; and when he beheld the countenance that
presented itself, his face, indeed, lighted up with a smile, but that
smile was so mingled with an expression of melancholy and agitation,
that it seemed as if he were about to burst into tears.
"This is very kind of you, indeed, Wilton!" he exclaimed, stretching
out his hand towards him: "pray let us forget all that took place
last night. Indeed, your kindness in coming now must make a very
great difference in my feelings towards you: not only that, indeed,
but your note, which reached me early this morning, and which had
already made such a difference, that I should certainly have sent for
you to talk over all matters more calmly, if this terrible misfortune
had not happened to me."
Was the Duke endeavouring to deceive Wilton?--No, indeed, he was not!
Though there can be scarcely a doubt that, had he not been very much
brought down by fear and anxiety, he would not have sent for Wilton
at all. The truth was, he had first deceived himself,