and a cavalier, who entered, muffled in his riding-cloak, and
wearing a slouched hat with a drooping feather, stood at once within
four yards of him who was desirous of going out. They exclaimed at
once, in tones of resentment and surprise, the one "Varney!" the other
"Tressilian!"

"What make you here?" was the stern question put by the stranger to
Tressilian, when the moment of surprise was past--"what make you here,
where your presence is neither expected nor desired?"

"Nay, Varney," replied Tressilian, "what make you here? Are you come
to triumph over the innocence you have destroyed, as the vulture or
carrion-crow comes to batten on the lamb whose eyes it has first plucked
out? Or are you come to encounter the merited vengeance of an honest
man? Draw, dog, and defend thyself!"

Tressilian drew his sword as he spoke, but Varney only laid his hand
on the hilt of his own, as he replied, "Thou art mad, Tressilian. I own
appearances are against me; but by every oath a priest can make or a man
can swear, Mistress Amy Robsart hath had no injury from me. And in truth
I were somewhat loath to hurt you in this cause--thou knowest I can
fight."

"I have heard thee say so, Varney," replied Tressilian; "but now,
methinks, I would fain have some better evidence than thine own word."

"That shall not be lacking, if blade and hilt be but true to me,"
answered Varney; and drawing his sword with the right hand, he threw his
cloak around his left, and attacked Tressilian with a vigour which,
for a moment, seemed to give him the advantage of the combat. But this
advantage lasted not long. Tressilian added to a spirit determined on
revenge a hand and eye admirably well adapted to the use of the rapier;
so that Varney, finding himself hard pressed in his turn, endeavoured
to avail himself of his superior strength by closing with his adversary.
For this purpose, he hazarded the receiving one of Tressilian's passes
in his cloak, wrapped as it was around his arm, and ere his adversary
could, extricate his rapier thus entangled, he closed with him,
shortening his own sword at the same time, with the purpose of
dispatching him. But Tressilian was on his guard, and unsheathing his
poniard, parried with the blade of that weapon the home-thrust which
would otherwise have finished the combat, and, in the struggle which
followed, displayed so much address, as might have confirmed, the
opinion that he drew his origin from Cornwall whose nat