“First, I will write to Captain Clifford,” resumed Evaline, “and advise him, with what brevity I can, what he is charged withal. This were no more than common justice.”
“No more,” said Sir Edgar. “But where wilt thou write to him, dear?”
“To the lodging of Sir Walter Raleigh,” answered Evaline.
“I had a missive from Sir Walter this morning,” said Sir Edgar, “enclosing a pass for Felix, but he makes no mention, in the few words he hath writ, of Captain Clifford.”
“No doubt, they be both much occupied with the new levies, preparing against the armada,” observed Evaline. “I will advertise him, if he do not clear himself of the charges in ten days’ time, he shall never see me more. When that space has passed, I will hold myself free from him, and be ready to wed Felix.”
“’Tis resolved like thyself, and let it be so,” replied Sir Edgar. “The letter should be despatched to him with all speed.”
“I will write it incontinently,” returned Evaline.
Accordingly, she repaired to the contiguous table, and there, sitting down, entered on the task forthwith. Her despair, instead of distracting her, marshalled her thoughts into order; her hand was as steady as marble; and, writing straight on, she shortly brought her letter to a close. When she had thus finished it, she carefully read it over; and then, though without speaking, offered it for the perusal of Sir Edgar.
“I cannot read it,” cried Sir Edgar. “Seal it up!”