ere instantly dispelled when, turning
to look back towards the entrance, he saw a human form advancing slowly
from the portico, and darkening the various objects with its shadow, as
passing them successively, in its approach towards him.

"Shall I strike ere I again hear his detested voice?" was Leicester's
thought, as he grasped the hilt of the sword. "But no! I will see which
way his vile practice tends. I will watch, disgusting as it is, the
coils and mazes of the loathsome snake, ere I put forth my strength and
crush him."

His hand quitted the sword-hilt, and he advanced slowly towards
Tressilian, collecting, for their meeting, all the self-possession he
could command, until they came front to front with each other.

Tressilian made a profound reverence, to which the Earl replied with
a haughty inclination of the head, and the words, "You sought secret
conference with me, sir; I am here, and attentive."

"My lord," said Tressilian, "I am so earnest in that which I have to
say, and so desirous to find a patient, nay, a favourable hearing, that
I will stoop to exculpate myself from whatever might prejudice your
lordship against me. You think me your enemy?"

"Have I not some apparent cause?" answered Leicester, perceiving that
Tressilian paused for a reply.

"You do me wrong, my lord. I am a friend, but neither a dependant nor
partisan, of the Earl of Sussex, whom courtiers call your rival; and it
is some considerable time since I ceased to consider either courts or
court intrigues as suited to my temper or genius."

"No doubt, sir," answered Leicester "there are other occupations more
worthy a scholar, and for such the world holds Master Tressilian. Love
has his intrigues as well as ambition."

"I perceive, my lord," replied Tressilian, "you give much weight to my
early attachment for the unfortunate young person of whom I am about to
speak, and perhaps think I am prosecuting her cause out of rivalry, more
than a sense of justice."

"No matter for my thoughts, sir," said the Earl; "proceed. You have as
yet spoken of yourself only--an important and worthy subject doubtless,
but which, perhaps, does not altogether so deeply concern me that I
should postpone my repose to hear it. Spare me further prelude, sir, and
speak to the purpose if indeed you have aught to say that concerns me.
When you have done, I, in my turn, have something to communicate."

"I will speak, then, without further prelude, my lord," an