ces
about his person, which the new-made knight seemed to render as eagerly
as if he had really felt, in discharging the task, that pleasure which
his words expressed.

"I am not afraid of men's misconstruction," he said, in answer to
Leicester's remark, "since there is not--(permit me to undo the
collar)--a man within the Castle who does not expect very soon to see
persons of a rank far superior to that which, by your goodness, I now
hold, rendering the duties of the bedchamber to you, and accounting it
an honour."

"It might, indeed, so have been"--said the Earl, with an involuntary
sigh; and then presently added, "My gown, Varney; I will look out on the
night. Is not the moon near to the full?"

"I think so, my lord, according to the calendar," answered Varney.

There was an abutting window, which opened on a small projecting balcony
of stone, battlemented as is usual in Gothic castles. The Earl undid the
lattice, and stepped out into the open air. The station he had chosen
commanded an extensive view of the lake and woodlands beyond, where the
bright moonlight rested on the clear blue waters and the distant masses
of oak and elm trees. The moon rode high in the heavens, attended by
thousands and thousands of inferior luminaries. All seemed already to
be hushed in the nether world, excepting occasionally the voice of the
watch (for the yeomen of the guard performed that duty wherever the
Queen was present in person) and the distant baying of the hounds,
disturbed by the preparations amongst the grooms and prickers for a
magnificent hunt, which was to be the amusement of the next day.

Leicester looked out on the blue arch of heaven, with gestures and a
countenance expressive of anxious exultation, while Varney, who remained
within the darkened apartment, could (himself unnoticed), with a
secret satisfaction, see his patron stretch his hands with earnest
gesticulation towards the heavenly bodies.

"Ye distant orbs of living fire," so ran the muttered invocation of the
ambitious Earl, "ye are silent while you wheel your mystic rounds; but
Wisdom has given to you a voice. Tell me, then, to what end is my high
course destined? Shall the greatness to which I have aspired be bright,
pre-eminent, and stable as your own; or am I but doomed to draw a brief
and glittering train along the nightly darkness, and then to sink down
to earth, like the base refuse of those artificial fires with which men
emulate your rays?"