admit of
his taking any steps for that purpose, and after some more
conversation on the same subject, he and his friend parted.
On the following morning Wilton had an opportunity of visiting the
Duke of Shrewsbury's office, and found Mr. Vernon disengaged. To him
he communicated all that he had to say in defence of the Duke, and
found Vernon mild in his manners and expressions, but naturally
cautious in either promising anything or in giving any information.
He heard all that Wilton had to say, however, and assured him that he
would lay the statement he made before the King on the ensuing
morning, adding, that if he would call upon him in the course of the
next day he would tell him the result. He smiled when Wilton
requested him to keep his visit and its object secret, and nodded his
head, merely replying, "I understand."
On the following day Wilton did not fail to visit him again, and
waited for nearly an hour till he was ready to receive him.
"I am sorry," said Vernon, when he did admit him, "that I cannot give
you greater satisfaction, Mr. Brown; but the King's reply, upon my
application, was, that he had already spoken with the Earl of
Byerdale on the subject. However, it may be some comfort to you to
know that his grace of Shrewsbury takes an interest in the situation
of the Duke, and has himself written to the King upon the subject."

CHAPTER XLI.
It was about the hour of noon, and the day was dull and oppressive.
Though the apartments assigned to the Duke were high up, and in
themselves anything but gloomy, yet no cheering ray of sunshine had
visited them, and the air, which was extremely warm, seemed loaded
with vapour. The spirits of the prisoner were depressed in
proportion, and since the first hour of his imprisonment he had
never, perhaps, felt so much as at that moment, all the leaden weight
of dull captivity, the anguish of uncertainty, and the delay of hope,
which, ever from the time of the prophet king down to the present
day, has made the heart sick and the soul weary. It was in vain that
his daughter, with the tenderest, the kindest, the most assiduous
care, strove to raise his expectations or support his resolution; it
was in vain that she strove to wean his thoughts away from his own
painful situation by music, or by reading, or by conversation. Grief,
like the dull adder, stops its ear that it may not hear the song of
the charmer; and while she sang to him or played to him upon the
lute, at that time an instrument still extr