door, but the look more than satisfied him that he could not
hope to gain it without attracting the attention of his most unwelcome
companion.

There was only one idea which presented itself to the unlucky man's
mind which promised any fair successes, and that left no alternative.
He must put Sir Thomas out of the way!

However repugnant this plan might be, and Edmund felt all its
hideousness, he felt every moment more and more convinced that it
was the only safe way. He had suffered too much already to venture
willingly back into the torture-chamber from which he had just
escaped, even if he could safely have regained its shelter--in itself
no mean feat; and at the bare idea of spending two more hours of like
agony he trembled. He resolved that rather than he would be driven
to that uncertain refuge again, Sir Thomas should pay the penalty of
death.

At this stage of his reflections he was rudely stopped, for the young
knight, as if conscious of some impending danger, withdrew his head
into the room and rolled over upon his back, leaving Edmund so little
time in which to screen himself from view, that in attempting to
secure a cover he toppled right over and fell back upon a thin
scattering of straw.

Sir Thomas stopped the yawn with which he was indulging himself, and
got upon his feet, surprised in no small degree to find that no one
had entered the room. He went to the ladder to satisfy himself, but
meeting with a like measure of ill-success there, he came away in a
discontented mood; not perceiving Edmund, who lay, holding his breath,
behind a heap of hay.

"I thought it was my sack coming," he muttered; "but it was only those
confounded rats. What a time they are gone, to be sure," and as a last
resource he sat himself down upon Sir George's seat and watched the
play afresh.

Edmund during all this time was slowly making up his wavering mind.
The memory of Dame Durden was still fresh within him, and it was in
fulfilment of his scheme of revenge for that that he had united with
Sir Ronald Bury to bring the baron to book for his misdeeds, and was
now in London. Why should he not wreak his vengeance upon Sir Thomas
Stanley, and then at once accomplish the work on which his heart was
set? In the intensity of his passion he could find no satisfactory
answer to the question. There were powerful reasons both for and
against such a plan. Sir Thomas was seriously jeopardising his present
safety; but would his deat