I care not a groat for Master Tressilian,he said;I have done more than bargain by him,and I have brought his errant-damosel within his reach,so that he may look after her himself.But Ifear the poor thing is in much danger amongst these stormy spirits.I will to her chamber,and tell her the fate which has befallen her letter,that she may write another if she list.She cannot lack a messenger,I trow,where there are so many lackeys that can carry a letter to their lord.And I will tell her also that I leave the Castle,trusting her to God,her own guidance,and Master Tressilian's care and looking after.Perhaps she may remember the ring she offered me--it was well earned,I trow;but she is a lovely creature,and--marry hang the ring!I will not bear a base spirit for the matter.If I fare ill in this world for my good-nature,I shall have better chance in the next.So now for the lady,and then for the road.With the stealthy step and jealous eye of the cat that steals on her prey,Wayland resumed the way to the Countess's chamber,sliding along by the side of the courts and passages,alike observant of all around him,and studious himself to escape observation.In this manner he crossed the outward and inward Castle yard,and the great arched passage,which,running betwixt the range of kitchen offices and the hall,led to the bottom of the little winding-stair that gave access to the chambers of Mervyn's Tower.
The artist congratulated himself on having escaped the various perils of his journey,and was in the act of ascending by two steps at once,when he observed that the shadow of a man,thrown from a door which stood ajar,darkened the opposite wall of the staircase.Wayland drew back cautiously,went down to the inner courtyard,spent about a quarter of an hour,which seemed at least quadruple its usual duration,in walking from place to place,and then returned to the tower,in hopes to find that the lurker had disappeared.He ascended as high as the suspicious spot--there was no shadow on the wall;he ascended a few yards farther--the door was still ajar,and he was doubtful whether to advance or retreat,when it was suddenly thrown wide open,and Michael Lambourne bolted out upon the astonished Wayland.Who the devil art thou?and what seekest thou in this part of the Castle?march into that chamber,and be hanged to thee!I am no dog,to go at every man's whistle,said the artist,affecting a confidence which was belied by a timid shake in his voice.
Sayest thou me so?--Come hither,Lawrence Staples.A huge,ill-made and ill-looked fellow,upwards of six feet high,appeared at the door,and Lambourne proceeded:If thou be'st so fond of this tower,my friend,thou shalt see its foundations,good twelve feet below the bed of the lake,and tenanted by certain jolly toads,snakes,and so forth,which thou wilt find mighty good company.Therefore,once more I ask you in fair play,who thou art,and what thou seekest here?If the dungeon-grate once clashes behind me,thought Wayland,I am a gone man.He therefore answered submissively,He was the poor juggler whom his honour had met yesterday in Weatherly Bottom.And what juggling trick art thou playing in this tower?Thy gang,said Lambourne,lie over against Clinton's buildings.I came here to see my sister,said the juggler,who is in Master Tressilian's chamber,just above.Aha!said Lambourne,smiling,here be truths!Upon my honour,for a stranger,this same Master Tressilian makes himself at home among us,and furnishes out his cell handsomely,with all sorts of commodities.This will be a precious tale of the sainted Master Tressilian,and will be welcome to some folks,as a purse of broad pieces to me.--Hark ye,fellow,he continued,addressing Wayland,thou shalt not give Puss a hint to steal away we must catch her in her form.So,back with that pitiful sheep-biting visage of thine,or I will fling thee from the window of the tower,and try if your juggling skill can save your bones.Your worship will not be so hardhearted,I trust,said Wayland;poor folk must live.I trust your honour will allow me to speak with my sister?Sister on Adam's side,I warrant,said Lambourne;or,if otherwise,the more knave thou.But sister or no sister.thou diest on point of fox,if thou comest a-prying to this tower once more.And now I think of it--uds daggers and death!--I will see thee out of the Castle,for this is a more main concern than thy jugglery.But,please your worship,said Wayland,I am to enact Arion in the pageant upon the lake this very evening.I will act it myself by Saint Christopher!said Lambourne.
Orion,callest thou him?--I will act Orion,his belt and his seven stars to boot.Come along,for a rascal knave as thou art --follow me!Or stay--Lawrence,do thou bring him along.Lawrence seized by the collar of the cloak the unresisting juggler;while Lambourne,with hasty steps,led the way to that same sallyport,or secret postern,by which Tressilian had returned to the Castle,and which opened in the western wall at no great distance from Mervyn's Tower.
While traversing with a rapid foot the space betwixt the tower and the sallyport,Wayland in vain racked his brain for some device which might avail the poor lady,for whom,notwithstanding his own imminent danger,he felt deep interest.But when he was thrust out of the Castle,and informed by Lambourne,with a tremendous oath,that instant death would be the consequence of his again approaching it,he cast up his hands and eyes to heaven,as if to call God to witness he had stood to the uttermost in defence of the oppressed;then turned his back on the proud towers of Kenilworth,and went his way to seek a humbler and safer place of refuge.
