“Lead the way, father,” said he, “and Joseph shall follow us.”
Oswald smiled.
“We will go where Heaven permits us,” said he; “alas! the wisdom of man can neither hasten, nor retard, its decrees.”
They followed the father up stairs, and went directly to the haunted apartment. The Baron unlocked the door; he bid Joseph open the shutters, and admit the daylight, which had been excluded for many years. They went over the rooms above stairs, and then descended the staircase, and through the lower rooms in the same manner. However, they overlooked the closet, in which the fatal secret was concealed; the door was covered with tapestry, the same as the room, and united so well that it seemed but one piece. Wenlock tauntingly desired Father Oswald to introduce them to the ghost. The father, in reply, asked them where they should find Edmund. “Do you think,” said he, “that he lies hid in my pocket, or in Joseph’s?”
“‘Tis no matter,” answered he; “thoughts are free.”
“My opinion of you, Sir,” said Oswald, “is not founded upon thoughts—I judge of men by their actions,—a rule, I believe, it will not suit you to be tried by.”
“None of your insolent admonitions, father!” returned Wenlock; “this is neither the time nor the place for them.”
“That is truer than you are aware of, sir; I meant not to enter into the subject just now.”
“Be silent,” said my Lord.
“I shall enter into this subject with you hereafter—then look you be prepared for it. In the mean time, do you, Dick Wenlock, answer to my questions:—Do you think Edmund is concealed in this apartment?”