h at all affect the baron? Margaret would
feel it, mayhap, and so might Sir George to some extent, but he was
fully aware that Sir Ronald's aim would be by no means compassed by
such a termination; nor was he at all certain his own desire would be
accomplished even then. The danger of his present position, however,
was too apparent to be lightly put aside, and it proved too much for
him. Were the others to return now his ruin would be assured; and
realising this, he cautiously raised his head, and finding the young
nobleman again deeply interested in the progress of the scene before
him, he quickly drew out his knife and crept silently on towards his
unsuspicious prey.

CHAPTER XI.

AN UNFORTUNATE DENOUEMENT.

But
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' mice and men
Gang aft a-gley.

BURNS.

As Edmund drew nearer to Sir Thomas Stanley his heart began to fail
him, and when at last he was sufficiently near the knight to have
carried out his design, his courage oozed out at his finger ends and
he felt powerless to strike.

Finally he relinquished the attempt altogether, and a new idea
flashing upon him, he tossed the knife into the furthest corner of the
room, and rising to his feet, he tapped the still unconscious nobleman
upon the shoulder, trusting that his careful disguise would preserve
him from being recognised by Sir Thomas at least, for circumstances
at Haddon had brought them into connection with each other but a few
times at most.

"Come at last, eh! and time, too," exclaimed the young knight, as
he listlessly held out his hand for his potion of sack. "What, not
brought it yet?" he added, as he saw the other's empty hands; "I have
been kept waiting for it more than a quarter of an hour."

"Will you have it cool or spiced, my lord?" meekly asked Edmund,
following up the idea thus thrown out. "I have but just received the
order for it."

"Spiced, indeed!" replied the knight contemptuously; "not I, let me
have it fresh from the cellar, and that quickly. No, here, stay," he
added by the way of afterthought, "where is Sir George?"

"Sir George! Is that the oldish gentleman with the master?"

"That is Sir George Vernon, yes."

"He is lying down in the parlour," was the ready reply.

"Humph, that's queer, poring over that confounded document again, I'll
warrant me. I will go back with you," returned Sir Thomas.

"I will