The villain,she said--the cold-blooded,calculating slave!--But I unmasked him,Janet--I made the snake uncoil all his folds before me,and crawl abroad in his naked deformity;I suspended my resentment,at the danger of suffocating under the effort,until he had let me see the very bottom of a heart more foul than hell's darkest corner.--And thou,Leicester,is it possible thou couldst bid me for a moment deny my wedded right in thee,or thyself yield it to another?--But it is impossible--the villain has lied in all.--Janet,I will not remain here longer--I fear him--I fear thy father.I grieve to say it,Janet--but I fear thy father,and,worst of all,this odious Varney,I will escape from Cumnor.Alas!madam,whither would you fly,or by what means will you escape from these walls?I know not,Janet,said the unfortunate young lady,looking upwards!and clasping her hands together,I know not where Ishall fly,or by what means;but I am certain the God I have served will not abandon me in this dreadful crisis,for I am in the hands of wicked men.Do not think so,dear lady,said Janet;my father is stern and strict in his temper,and severely true to his trust--but yet--At this moment Anthony Foster entered the apartment,bearing in his hand a glass cup and a small flask.His manner was singular;for,while approaching the Countess with the respect due to her rank,he had till this time suffered to become visible,or had been unable to suppress,the obdurate sulkiness of his natural disposition,which,as is usual with those of his unhappy temper,was chiefly exerted towards those over whom circumstances gave him control.But at present he showed nothing of that sullen consciousness of authority which he was wont to conceal under a clumsy affectation of civility and deference,as a ruffian hides his pistols and bludgeon under his ill-fashioned gaberdine.And yet it seemed as if his smile was more in fear than courtesy,and as if,while he pressed the Countess to taste of the choice cordial,which should refresh her spirits after her late alarm,he was conscious of meditating some further injury.His hand trembled also,his voice faltered,and his whole outward behaviour exhibited so much that was suspicious,that his daughter Janet,after she had stood looking at him in astonishment for some seconds,seemed at once to collect herself to execute some hardy resolution,raised her head,assumed an attitude and gait of determination and authority,and walking slowly betwixt her father and her mistress,took the salver from the hand of the former,and said in a low but marked and decided tone,Father,I will fill for my noble mistress,when such is her pleasure.Thou,my child?said Foster,eagerly and apprehensively;no,my child--it is not THOU shalt render the lady this service.And why,I pray you,said Janet,if it be fitting that the noble lady should partake of the cup at all?Why--why?said the seneschal,hesitating,and then bursting into passion as the readiest mode of supplying the lack of all other reason--why,because it is my pleasure,minion,that you should not!Get you gone to the evening lecture.Now,as I hope to hear lecture again,replied Janet,I will not go thither this night,unless I am better assured of my mistress's safety.Give me that flask,father--and she took it from his reluctant hand,while he resigned it as if conscience-struck.And now,she said,father,that which shall benefit my mistress,cannot do ME prejudice.Father,I drink to you.Foster,without speaking a word,rushed on his daughter and wrested the flask from her hand;then,as if embarrassed by what he had done,and totally unable to resolve what he should do next,he stood with it in his hand,one foot advanced and the other drawn back,glaring on his daughter with a countenance in which rage,fear,and convicted villainy formed a hideous combination.
This is strange,my father,said Janet,keeping her eye fixed on his,in the manner in which those who have the charge of lunatics are said to overawe their unhappy patients;will you neither let me serve my lady,nor drink to her myself?The courage of the Countess sustained her through this dreadful scene,of which the import was not the less obvious that it was not even hinted at.She preserved even the rash carelessness of her temper,and though her cheek had grown pale at the first alarm,her eye was calm and almost scornful.Will YOU taste this rare cordial,Master Foster?Perhaps you will not yourself refuse to pledge us,though you permit not Janet to do so.
Drink,sir,I pray you.
I will not,answered Foster.
And for whom,then,is the precious beverage reserved,sir?said the Countess.
For the devil,who brewed it!answered Foster;and,turning on his heel,he left the chamber.
Janet looked at her mistress with a countenance expressive in the highest degree of shame,dismay,and sorrow.
Do not weep for me,Janet,said the Countess kindly.
No,madam,replied her attendant,in a voice broken by sobs,it is not for you I weep;it is for myself--it is for that unhappy man.Those who are dishonoured before man--those who are condemned by God--have cause to mourn;not those who are innocent!Farewell,madam!she said hastily assuming the mantle in which she was wont to go abroad.
