d, like men come a long
journey. He came up, just as the first had delivered his message to the
porter. John Wyatt knew him; he dismounted, and made signs that he had
something to say to him; he retired back a few steps, and John, with
great dexterity, slipped a letter into his hand. The father gave him his
blessing, and a welcome.

"Who do you come from?" said he aloud.

"From the Lords Graham and Clifford to the Lord Fitz-Owen; and we bring
letters of consequence to the Baron."

Oswald followed the messengers into the hall; a servant announced their
arrival. Lord Fitz-Owen received them in the parlour; Lord Clifford's
servant delivered his master's letter, Lord Graham's his, and they said
they would retire and wait his Lordship's answer. The Baron ordered them
some refreshment. They retired, and he opened his letters. He read them
with great agitations, he struck his hand upon his heart, he exclaimed,
"My fears are all verified! the blow is struck, and it has fallen upon
the guilty!"

Oswald came in a minute after.

"You are come in good time," said the Baron. "Read that letter, that my
children may know the contents."

He read it, with faultering voice, and trembling limbs. They were all
in great surprise. William looked down, and kept a studied silence. Sir
Robert exclaimed--

"Is it possible? can my uncle be guilty of such an action?"

"You hear," said the Baron, "he has confessed it!"

"But to whom?" said Sir Robert.

His father replied, "Lord Clifford's honour is unquestionable, and I
cannot doubt what he affirms."

Sir Robert leaned his head upon his hand, as one lost in thought; at
length he seemed to awake.

"My Lord, I have no doubt that Edmund is at the bottom of this business.
Do you not remember that Sir Philip Harclay long ago promised him his
friendship? Edmund disappears; and, soon after, this man challenges my
Uncle. You know what passed here before his departure; He has suggested
this affair to Sir Philip, and instigated him to this action. This is
the return he has made for the favours he has received from our family,
to which he owes every thing!"

"Softly, my son!" said the Baron; "let us be cautious of reflecting upon
Edmund; there is a greater hand in this business. My conjecture was too
true; It was in that fatal apartment that he was made acquainted with
the circumstances of Lord Lovel's death; he was, perhaps, enjoined to
reveal them to Sir Philip Harclay, the bosom friend of