ureka, with
Adam Warner by his side.

Graul, as we have seen, had kept her word, and Sibyll and her father,
having fallen into the snare, were suddenly gagged, bound, led through
by-paths to a solitary hut, where a covered wagon was in waiting, and
finally, at nightfall, conducted to the Tower. The friar, whom his own
repute, jolly affability, and favour with the Duchess of Bedford made
a considerable person with the authorities of the place, had already
obtained from the deputy-governor an order to lodge two persons, whom
his zeal for the king sought to convict of necromantic practices
in favour of the rebellion, in the cells set apart for such unhappy
captives. Thither the prisoners were conducted. The friar did not object
to their allocation in contiguous cells; and the jailer deemed him
mighty kind and charitable, when he ordered that they might be well
served and fed till their examination.

He did not venture, however, to summon his captives till the departure
of the king, when the Tower was in fact at the disposition of his
powerful patroness, and when he thought he might stretch his authority
as far as he pleased, unquestioned and unchid.

Now, therefore, on the day succeeding Edward's departure, Adam Warner
was brought from his cell, and led to the chamber where the triumphant
friar received him in majestic state. The moment Warner entered, he
caught sight of the chaos to which his Eureka was resolved, and uttering
a cry of mingled grief and joy, sprang forward to greet his profaned
treasure. The friar motioned away the jailer (whispering him to wait
without), and they were left alone. Bungey listened with curious and
puzzled attention to poor Adam's broken interjections of lamentation and
anger, and at last, clapping him roughly on the back, said,--

"Thou knowest the secret of this magical and ugly device: but in thy
hands it leads only to ruin and perdition. Tell me that secret, and in
my hands it shall turn to honour and profit. Porkey verbey! I am a man
of few words. Do this, and thou shalt go free with thy daughter, and
I will protect thee, and give thee moneys, and my fatherly blessing;
refuse to do it, and thou shalt go from thy snug cell into a black
dungeon full of newts and rats, where thou shalt rot till thy nails are
like birds' talons, and thy skin shrivelled up into mummy, and covered
with hair like Nebuchadnezzar!"

"Miserable varlet! Give thee my secret, give thee my fame, my life!
Never!