erve so great a blessing," interrupted
Edmund.
"I know your worth and honour," continued William; "and such is my
confidence in your merit, that I firmly believe Heaven designs you for
something extraordinary; and I expect that some great and unforeseen
event will raise you to the rank and station to which you appear to
belong: Promise me, therefore, that whatever may be your fate you will
preserve the same friendship for me that I bear to you."
Edmund was so much affected that he could not answer but in broken
sentences.
"Oh my friend, my master! I vow, I promise, my heart promises!"
He kneeled down with clasped hands, and uplifted eyes. William kneeled
by him, and they invoked the Supreme to witness to their friendship,
and implored His blessing upon it. They then rose up and embraced each
other, while tears of cordial affection bedewed their cheeks.
As soon as they were able to speak, Edmund conjured his friend not to
expose himself to the displeasure of his family out of kindness to him.
"I submit to the will of Heaven," said he; "I wait with patience its
disposal of me; if I leave the castle, I will find means to inform you
of my fate and fortunes."
"I hope," said William, "that things may yet be accommodated; but do not
take any resolution, let us act as occasions arise."
In this manner these amiable youths conferred, till they arrived at the
castle. The Baron was sitting in the great hall, on a high chair with a
footstep before, with the state and dignity of a judge; before him stood
Father Oswald, as pleading the cause for himself and Edmund. Round the
Baron's chair stood his eldest son and his kinsmen, with their principal
domestics. The old servant, Joseph, at some distance, with his head
leaning forward, as listening with the utmost attention to what passed.
Mr. William approached the chair. "My Lord, I have found Edmund, and
brought him to answer for himself."
"You have done well," said the Baron. "Edmund, come hither; you are
charged with some indiscretions, for I cannot properly call them crimes:
I am resolved to do justice between you and your accusers; I shall
therefore hear you as well as them; for no man ought to be condemned
unheard."
"My lord," said Edmund, with equal modesty and intrepidity, "I demand my
trial; if I shall be found guilty of any crimes against my Benefactor,
let me be punished with the utmost rigour; But if, as I trust, no such
charge can be proved against me, I
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