"
"Death and fury!" said Tressilian, transported beyond his usual
patience; "thou hast not lost that on which may depend a stake more
important than a thousand such lives as thine?"
"Lost it!" answered Wayland readily; "that were a jest indeed! No, sir,
I have it carefully put up with my night-sack, and some matters I have
occasion to use; I will fetch it in an instant."
"Do so," said Tressilian; "be faithful, and thou shalt be well rewarded.
But if I have reason to suspect thee, a dead dog were in better case
than thou!"
Wayland bowed, and took his leave with seeming confidence and alacrity,
but, in fact, filled with the utmost dread and confusion. The letter was
lost, that was certain, notwithstanding the apology which he had made to
appease the impatient displeasure of Tressilian. It was lost--it might
fall into wrong hands--it would then certainly occasion a discovery
of the whole intrigue in which he had been engaged; nor, indeed, did
Wayland see much prospect of its remaining concealed, in any event. He
felt much hurt, besides, at Tressilian's burst of impatience.
"Nay, if I am to be paid in this coin for services where my neck is
concerned, it is time I should look to myself. Here have I offended, for
aught I know, to the death, the lord of this stately castle, whose word
were as powerful to take away my life as the breath which speaks it
to blow out a farthing candle. And all this for a mad lady, and a
melancholy gallant, who, on the loss of a four-nooked bit of paper, has
his hand on his poignado, and swears death and fury!--Then there is the
Doctor and Varney.--I will save myself from the whole mess of them. Life
is dearer than gold. I will fly this instant, though I leave my reward
behind me."
These reflections naturally enough occurred to a mind like Wayland's,
who found himself engaged far deeper than he had expected in a train
of mysterious and unintelligible intrigues, in which the actors seemed
hardly to know their own course. And yet, to do him justice, his
personal fears were, in some degree, counterbalanced by his compassion
for the deserted state of the lady.
"I care not a groat for Master Tressilian," he said; "I have done more
than bargain by him, and I have brought his errant-damosel within his
reach, so that he may look after her himself. But I fear the poor thing
is in much danger amongst these stormy spirits. I will to her chamber,
and tell her the fate which has befallen her let
|