t of the witchcraft, I pray you to command his
attendance, and cheer up his courage. He waits without."

"A most notable, a most wise advice, beloved Richard!" cried the
duchess. "Friar Bungey is, indeed, a potent man. I will win him at once
to your will;" and the duchess hurried from the room.

The friar's bodily fears, quieted at last by assurances that he should
be posted in a place of perfect safety during the battle, and his
avarice excited by promises of the amplest rewards, he consented to
accompany the troops, upon one stipulation,--namely, that the atrocious
wizard, who had so often baffled his best spells,--the very wizard who
had superintended the accursed bombards, and predicted Edward's previous
defeat and flight (together with the diabolical invention, in which all
the malice and strength of his sorcery were centred),--might, according
to Jacquetta's former promise, be delivered forthwith to his mercy, and
accompany him to the very spot where he was to dispel and counteract
the Lancastrian nigromancer's enchantments. The duchess, too glad to
purchase the friar's acquiescence on such cheap terms, and to whose
superstitious horror for Adam's lore in the black art was now added a
purely political motive for desiring him to be made away with,--inasmuch
as in the Sanctuary she had at last extorted from Elizabeth the dark
secret which might make him a very dangerous witness against the
interests and honour of Edward,--readily and joyfully consented to this
proposition.

A strong guard was at once despatched to the Tower with the friar
himself, followed by a covered wagon, which was to serve for conveyance
to Bungey and his victim.

In the mean while, Sibyll, after remaining for some time in the chamber
which Hastings had abandoned to her solitary woe, had passed to the room
in which her father held mute commune with his Eureka.

The machine was now thoroughly completed,--improved and perfected,
to the utmost art the inventor ever could attain. Thinking that the
prejudice against it might have arisen from its uncouth appearance,
the poor philosopher had sought now to give it a gracious and imposing
appearance. He had painted and gilt it with his own hands; it looked
bright and gaudy in its gay hues; its outward form was worthy of the
precious and propitious jewel which lay hidden in its centre.

"See, child, see!" said Adam; "is it not beautiful and comely?"

"My dear father, yes!" answered the poor girl,