oon so much engrossed by it that he
seemed quite unconscious of her presence. His countenance became
gloomier and more austere as he read on, and an expression of
pain--almost a groan--escaped him. He appeared then to feel sensible
that he had committed an indiscretion, for he laid down the paper, and,
as if forcibly diverting himself from its contents, addressed Aveline.

"What you have said respecting your father's condition of mind," he
observed, "by no means convinces me that it is so unsound as to render
him irresponsible for his actions. It were to put a charitable
construction upon his conduct to say that no one but a madman could be
capable of it; but there was too much consistency in what he has said
and done to admit of such an inference. But for the interposition of
another person he owned that he would have killed the King; and the
disappointment he exhibited, and the language he used, prove such to
have been his fixed intention. His mind may have been disturbed; but
what of that? All who meditate great crimes, it is to be hoped, are not
entirely masters of themselves. Yet for that reason they are not to be
exempt from punishment. He who is sane enough to conceive an act of
wickedness, to plan its execution, and to attempt to perpetrate it,
although he may be in other respects of unsettled mind, is equally
amenable to the law, and ought equally to suffer for his criminality
with him who has a wiser and sounder head upon his shoulders."

Aveline attempted no reply, but the tears sprang to her eyes.

At this moment the door was thrown open by the usher to admit Sir
Jocelyn Mounchensey.

The emotion displayed by the young couple when thus brought together
passed unnoticed by the Secretary of State, as he was occupied at the
moment in writing the authority for Aveline, and did not raise his eyes
towards them.

"Are you the officer to whom my father's custody has been entrusted?"
exclaimed Aveline, as soon as she could give utterance to her surprise.

"Why do you ask that question, mistress?" demanded Sir Thomas, looking
up. "What can it signify to you who hath custody of your father,
provided good care be taken of him? There is a Latin maxim which his
Majesty cited at the banquet last night--_Etiam aconito inest
remedium_--and which may be freely rendered by our homely saying, that
'It is an ill wind that bloweth nobody good luck;' and this hath proved
true with Sir Jocelyn Mounchensey--for the gust that h