to no purpose,"said he, "for us to examine further now; when I am properly authorised,I will have this place opened; I trust that time is not far off."
"I believe it," said Oswald; "you are designed by Heaven to be itsinstrument in bringing this deed of darkness to light. We are yourcreatures; only tell us what you would have us do, and we are ready toobey your commands."
"I only demand your silence," said Edmund, "till I call for yourevidence; and then, you must speak all you know, and all you suspect."
"Oh," said Joseph, "that I may but live to see that day, and I shallhave lived long enough!"
"Come," said Edmund, "let us return up stairs, and we will consultfurther how I shall proceed."
So saying, he went out of the closet, and they followed him. He lockedthe door, and took the key out--"I will keep this," said he, "till Ihave power to use it to purpose, lest any one should presume to pry intothe secret of this closet. I will always carry it about me, to remind meof what I have undertaken."
Upon this, they returned up stairs into the bed-chamber; all was still,and they heard nothing more to disturb them. "How," said Edmund, "isit possible that I should be the son of Lord Lovel? for, howevercircumstances have seemed to encourage such a notion, what reason have Ito believe it?"
"I am strangely puzzled about it," said Oswald. "It seems unlikely thatso good a man as Lord Lovel should corrupt the wife of a peasant, hisvassal; and, especially, being so lately married to a lady with whom hewas passionately in love."
"Hold there!" said Joseph; "my lord was incapable of such an action; IfMaster Edmund is the son of my lord, he is also the son of my lady."
"How can that be," said Edmund?
"I don't know how," said Joseph; "but there is a person who can tell ifshe will; I mean Margery Twyford, who calls herself your mother."
"You meet my thoughts," said Edmund; "I had resolved, before you spoke,to visit her, and to interrogate her on the subject; I will ask myLord's permission to go this very day."
"That is right," said Oswald; "but be cautious and prudent in yourenquiries."
"If you," said Edmund, "would bear me company, I should do better; shemight think herself obliged to answer your questions; and, beingless interested in the event, you would be more discreet in yourinterrogations."
"That I will most readily," said he; "and I will ask my lord'spermission for us both."
"This point is well determined," said Joseph; "I am impatient forthe result; and I believe my feet will carry me to meet you whether Iconsent or not."
"I am as impatient as you," said Oswald; "but let us be silent asthe grave, and let not a word or look indicate any thing knowing ormysterious."
The daylight began to dawn upon their conference; and Edmund, observingit, begged his friends to withdraw in silence. They did so, and leftEdmund to his own recollections. His thoughts were too much employed forsleep to approach him; he threw himself upon the bed, and lay meditatinghow he should proceed; a thousand schemes offered themselves and wererejected; But he resolved, at all events, to leave Baron Fitz-Owen'sfamily the first opportunity that presented itself.
He was summoned, as before, to attend my lord at breakfast; duringwhich, he was silent, absent, and reserved. My Lord observed it, andrallied him; enquiring how he had spent the night?
"In reflecting upon my situation, my Lord; and in laying plans for myfuture conduct." Oswald took the hint, and asked permission to visitEdmund's mother in his company, and acquaint her with his intentionsof leaving the country soon. He consented freely; but seemed unresolvedabout Edmund's departure.
They set out directly, and Edmund went hastily to old Twyford's cottage,declaring that every field seemed a mile to him. "Restrain your warmth,my son," said Oswald; "compose your mind, and recover your breath,before you enter upon a business of such consequence." Margery met themat the door, and asked Edmund, what wind blew him thither?
"Is it so very surprising," said he, "that I should visit my parents?"
"Yes, it is," said she, "considering the treatment you have met withfrom us; but since Andrew is not in the house, I may say I am glad tosee you; Lord bless you, what a fine youth you be grown! 'Tis a longtime since I saw you; but that is not my fault; many a cross word,and many a blow, have I had on your account; but I may now venture toembrace my dear child."
Edmund came forward and embraced her fervently; the starting tears,on both sides, evinced their affection. "And why," said he, "shouldmy father forbid you to embrace your child? what have I ever done todeserve his hatred?"
"Nothing, my dear boy! you were always good and tender-hearted, anddeserved the love of every body."
"It is not common," said Edmund, "for a parent to hate his first-bornson without his having deserved it."
"That is true," said Oswald; "it is uncommon, it is unnatural; nay, Iam of opinion it is almost impossible. I am so convinced of this truth,that I believe the man who thus hates and abuses Edmund, cannot be hisfather." In saying this, he observed her countenance attentively; shechanged colour apparently. "Come," said he, "let us sit down; and doyou, Margery, answer to what I have said."
"Blessed Virgin!" said Margery, "what does your reverence mean? what doyou suspect?"
"I suspect," said he, "that Edmund is not the son of Andrew yourhusband."
"Lord bless me!" said she, "what is it you do suspect?"
"Do not evade my question, woman! I am come here by authority to examineyou upon this point."
The woman trembled every joint. "Would to Heaven!" said she, "thatAndrew was at home!"
"It is much better as it is," said Oswald; "you are the person we are toexamine."
"Oh, father," said she, "do you think that I--that I--that I am to blamein this matter? what have I done?"
"Do you, sir," said he, "ask your own questions."
Upon this, Edmund threw himself at her feet, and embraced her knees."O my mother!" said he, "for as such my heart owns you, tell me for thelove of Heaven! tell me, who was my father?"
"Gracious Heaven!" said she, "what will become of me?"
"Woman!" said Oswald, "confess the truth, or you shall be compelled todo it; by whom had you this youth?"
"Who, I?" said she; "I had him! No, father, I am not guilty of the blackcrime of adultery; God, He knows my innocence; I am not worthy to be themother of such a sweet youth as that is."
"You are not his mother, then, nor Andrew his father?"
"Oh, what shall I do?" said Margery; "Andrew will be the death of me!"
"No, he shall not," said Edmund; "you shall be protected and rewardedfor the discovery."
"Goody," said Oswald, "confess the whole truth, and I will protectyou from harm and from blame; you may be the means of making Edmund'sfortune, in which case he will certainly provide for you; on theother hand, by an obstinate silence you will deprive yourself of alladvantages you might receive from the discovery; and, beside, you willsoon be examined in a different manner, and be obliged to confess allyou know, and nobody will thank you for it."
"Ah," said she, "but Andrew beat me the last time I spoke to Edmund;and told me he would break every bone in my skin, if ever I spoke to himagain."
"He knows it then?" said Oswald.
"He know it! Lord help you, it was all his own doing."
"Tell us then," said Oswald; "for Andrew shall never know it, till it isout of his power to punish you."
"'Tis a long story," said she, "and cannot be told in a few words."
"It will never be told at this rate," said he; "sit down and begin itinstantly."
"My fate depends upon your words," said Edmund; "my soul is impatientof the suspense! If ever you loved me and cherished me, shew it now, andtell while I have breath to ask it."
He sat in extreme agitation of mind; his words and actions were equallyexpressive of his inward emotions.
"I will," said she; "but I must try to recollect all the circumstances.You must know, young man, that you are just one-and-twenty years ofage."
"On what
day was he born," said Oswald?
"The day before yesterday," said she, "the 21st of September."
"A remarkable era," said he.
"'Tis so, indeed," said Edmund; "Oh, that night! that apartment!"
"Be silent," said