Speak," said the prince, encouragingly. Elated with the idea of importance with which the disclosure he was about to make, and the treasure he thought himself possessed of, were about to invest him, Arkel paused yet a moment ere he proceeded. He should then have a secret in common with the master-spirit of the age! Perhaps the papers he was about to deliver might influence, nay change the very course of his politics. Then again they might not be so all-important as he had fancied them, and he might only reap a well-earned censure for having so long retained them in his possession. At all events, he would remit them to the prince, to dispose of them in the manner he should think most advisable, and thus get rid of a responsibility which began to weigh upon his spirits. All care at the conclusion of his rapid reflections vanished from his ingenuous countenance; a smile betraying the relief of his mind, stole gradually over it; his hand was hastily thrust into his bosom-when the favourite page of the prince entered the apartment. So eager was the boy with the message he had to deliver that he scarcely noticed the presence of Arkel; and thus the latter, both from his proximity to the parties and from the degree of resonance produced by the peculiar form of the armoury, distinctly heard his words, though they were spoken in a low tone, or rather what was meant to be such. "My lord, the Spaniard is without awaiting your commands. This is the hour appointed." A slight shade of impatience passed over the prince's brow. He replied in a whisper that was, nevertheless, distinctly audible, "The Spaniard may wait. On no account suffer him to depart, You understand? I will see him presently." The obedient sprite disappeared; and, turning to Arkel, the prince was about to propose adjourning to his cabinet, where they would be safer from interruption, when again the door opened and another page appeared, and announced the near approach of the Counts of Egmont, Mansfeldt, Horn, and others of equal distinction, who were making towards the armoury, under the impression that the Counts of Nassau and Brederode were there. When, in answer to his hasty inquiries, he heard that his brother was yet from home, the prince determined on receiving these distinguished visitors himself, and gave orders accordingly; although Arkel fancied he could trace upon his features an expression of disappointment. He might have said something morewould probably have fixed a more convenient day or hour for their interrupted conversation to be resumed, but he was prevented by the entrance of his visitors. Arkel vanished by one door as the noblemen came in at the other, and he found himself in a passage different from that by which he had approached the armoury. He was quite unacquainted with this part of the building, and was fearful lest, by threading unknown corridors, he might intrude upon some of the more private apartments; nor did the very sparing light that found its way through the few small and irregular apertures, which served rather to let in air than the rays of the sun, tend to diminish his embarrassment. As his As his eye, however, grew more familiar with the demi-obscurity, he perceived at the upper end of the passage two figures, who had evidently been made aware of his coming by the sound of the closing door. The light from one of the loopholes near which he stood fell full upon one whose gay colours and diminutive size showed him to be the page who had first interrupted his interview with the prince; the other, whose face was muffled in his short cloak, must be the Spaniard whom he had announced. Involuntarily to that word Arkel associated the idea of Chievosa. Whether, however, this was suggested by the mere word which, twice repeated, struck upon his ear, or by the stranger's appearance, he could not determine; but every additional glance, as he remained for a few minutes uncertain how to proceed, convinced him more forcibly of the identity which at first he imagined conjured up merely by the power of his own fancy. His curiosity at length got the better of his desire to avoid recognition, and, advancing to the page, he requested to be conducted to the apartments of Count Louis. The page hesitated for a moment, then consulted with his companion in a whisper. The attentive Arkel could not catch the muttered reply, not even the faintest sound of the voice, whose peculiar sweetness would, he conceived, have betrayed at once the individuality he sought to ascertain. The youth appeared satisfied; and saying aloud, "It is well, I shall be back instantly," he prepared to do Arkel's bidding. His young conductor was well known to Arkel, his brother having filled the same office in his own family for many years. They were sons of a nobleman whose large estates, like those of his own father, lay north of Gueldres, who was considered very fortunate in having secured to his children such noble et bonne nourriture, as the training of youths of high descent was then termed. As they traversed the turnings and windings leading to the more public part of the building, therefore, Arkel, willing to confirm himself in his opinion, ventured, on the strength of old acquaintance, to inquire the name of the person whom they had left behind. The boy started at this abrupt question; and Arkel, seeing his confusion, maliciously repeated his inquiry, rather with the view of further disconcerting his companion than from an impertinent desire of penetrating into the prince's privacy. The page, however, recovered his composure, and answered firmly, "Who comes here or goes hence are things which concern the prince, and him alone. You can have no interest in asking." Arkel felt the rebuke, but replied, laughing,— "Come Master Page, that was well parried, but I am not satisfied. I happen to know both the Spaniard and his name-perhaps part of his errand too. Come, here's a guess. What do you say to Lopez Chievosa?" N. S.VOL. XXX P 106 The Confederates; or, the Days of Margaret of Parma. The boy remained silent. "Have you lost your tongue, Sir Page," said Arkel, haughtily, "that you answer me not?" "Why do you ask questions which I ought not to answer?" said the page, raising his large blue eyes with candour to the face of his interrogator. "Would you have me betray my trust, or tell a falsehood? I will do neither." "Well," exclaimed Arkel, covering with a gay laugh the confusion he really felt," I will never, henceforth, allow the vulgar proverb, Liar like a page,' to be uttered in my presence; for I have, at last, found one who proves its falsehood. That is right, my lad; persevere thus," continued he, with a patronising nod; "I am glad to have tried your mettle." The arch expression in the page's countenance showed that he was not quite the dupe of the turn which Arkel had given to the matter, but, impatient to rejoin the person he had left in the gallery, he hurried away without reply. He had scarcely departed, when the door of an anteroom opened, and Count Brederode, refreshed by an elegant morning toilette, made his appearance. He looked surprised, and not exactly pleased, when his eye fell upon Arkel. "Why so late, Lamoral? We expected you long ago at Breda; we even waited for you. This is not a fitting hour or place for informing us of the result of your visit to Antwerp.' "I was delayed by an unexpected circumstance, and was very much disappointed upon my arrival at Bois le Duc, to find that you and even John Marnix had flown. I awaited at Purmerend the news of your arrival here, and am now come to join you." "It is most unlucky that we did not meet as we agreed; but now, my young friend, that we have done so, it must be my first request that you leave us in all haste. Your best method of serving the cause is by instantly withdrawing yourself from Brussels, where, if you stay, it will be next to impossible not to betray your connexion with us. Nay, that is an essential point, Lamoral, and one which you must concede. We are not yet secure enough of your father's good-will to risk his discovering you to be one of us. We might, perhaps, lose you, as we are about to lose one of our most valuable members, who, in obedience to his father's persuasions and commands, will no longer be seen among us. You would not, could not disobey yours; nor would I, myself a father, countenance such a step. We might by a premature discovery not only risk your loss, but even our hopes of eventually bringing your noble father to act in concert with us. You see, Lamoral, I am in a great hurry. Count Louis and I scarcely had time to change our riding costume for a more beseeming one, when we were informed of the arrival of many friends. We cannot make them tarry; I cannot just now argue the point with you, but I entreat you to grant me my favour in this." "But, my dear count, what I have to communicate may be of such importance as even to outweigh all other considerations. I claim but a quarter of an hour's patience-nay, half that time will suffice." "I cannot now even allow you the slightest fragment of it, for here comes Count Louis-you know how little he can endure to wait-so really, my young friend, if you have aught to say so very material to our interests, I beg you will write it, or bide your chance of finding us less engaged; now we cannot attend to you, or rather, I should say, to any secret conference. Believe me, Lamoral, the most important thing at present is, that you go hence as soon as possible. You ask whither? Why, anywhere, my dear boy, to get out of the way. To Antwerp, if you will; in a few days I shall be there myself, and ready to give you as much of my time as you may please to command. Above all, do not dream of appearing at the banquet which Cuyllemberg is to give in our honour. But see, Count Louis is impatient. Adieu! Adieu !" Vain were the hesitating words of Arkel; they were lost in the distance as the two confederates, having hurriedly though kindly greeted him, took their way in all haste to the armory. "Fate herself seems to have set her will against it," thought the young man; "and now I remember me, if there be any truth in astrology, to-day is one on which it is unlucky to reveal secrets. The difficulty I find in getting rid of mine is like a warning. Such secret hints of nature ought never to be repulsed when understood. I'll even follow Brederode's advice. I'll meet him at Antwerp; but I will attend the dinner of Count Cuyllemberg in spite of him. A few days cannot make much difference, and I shall have still more leisure during that time to reflect upon this affair. As no one seems at liberty to consult with me, or even to listen to what I have to say, I shall have but the more time to consult with myself, and listen to the voice of my own presentiments. At all events the packet is safe for the moment. No one guesses in whose possession it now is, and I am yet free to deliver it to whom it may best suit me. How easy it were, after all, and how proper, to give it to my father-but he, too, is engaged." So saying, or rather thinking, Arkel left the palace, and sought, through the thronged city, the dark alley in which his follower awaited (To be continued.) him. LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP. LOVE is like the wild rose-briar ; The holly is dark when the rose briar blooms, But which will bloom most constantly? The wild rose-briar is sweet in spring, Its summer blossoms scent the air; Yet wait till winter comes again, And who will call the wild-briar fair? Literature, Reviews, &c. EXTRACTS FROM NEW BOOKS. THE EAGLE LET LOOSE.* "I think I shall go back," said Richard Newark. "I am tired of this work. I'll go back and have a gossip with Emmy." "Do not be rash, Dick," replied the father, holding up his finger, with a smile." Remember, slow degrees at first! You do not scare birds that you want to drive into a net." He laughed, and saying, "Oh, I'll not be rash," turned his horse's head, and cantered quickly away. When he had gone about a couple of miles, however, he fell into deep thought, took his feet out of the stirrup, let the reins drop on the horse's neck, and, for more than half an hour, proceeded at a walk. Then, as if suddenly rousing himself, he whistled a bit of a light air, put his horse into a quick pace again, and rode on to the Manor House. It was very unusual with Richard to stand in the stable yard after ride, till he had seen saddle and bridle removed, and the horse rubbed down; but now he left his beast immediately in the hands of the groom, and walked across the court till he came to a place where a large Irish eagle was chained to a heavy perch. The bird was fierce and untameable; but Richard approached it without fear, and took hold of the padlock on its leg. He had hardly done so, when it struck him with its bill more than once; but he proceeded boldly till he had unfastened the chain from its leg, and given it a vehement push from the perch. The bird instantly took wing and soared into the sky. Richard Newark laughed aloud, and, without looking after it, wiped some drops of blood from his forehead, and walked into the house. He pursued his way quietly through the passages, looked into the lesser and the greater saloon, and then, murmuring, "What a fool I am! but I knew that long ago," he opened the door without knocking and went in. Emmeline was seated near the window, gazing down upon the woods below; but she turned instantly at her cousin's step, and started up, exclaiming "What is the matter, Richard? What has happened? The blood is streaming down your face!" "Nothing at all has happened, Emmy dear," replied Richard. "Only, as often occurs in the world, a friend took me for an enemy and pecked my pate. Come here and sit down, and I will tell you all about it, though there is nothing worth hearing to tell. Sit down here, Emmy," he continued, again wiping away the blood. "There, put yourself in that chair, and I will sit on the stool at your feet, as I used to do before they sent me to school to see what part of my brain was sound." HENRY SMEATON: A JACOBITE STORY OF THE REIGN OF GEORGE THE FIRST. By G. P. R. JAMES, Esq., Newby. |