The figure was familiar to his eye, and in a minute after, as they approached nearer to each other, Seymour recognised Sir Harry West. An undefined feeling of apprehension seized upon him; though he had expected to find the old knight at Malvoisie; for it had been agreed that he should be invited to act as father to the bride, as the Earl of Shrewsbury declined to take any part in the business. But then, what brought him out at that early hour, if nothing had gone wrong? and the first question William Seymour asked as they met, was, "Is anything the matter?"
"Quick, quick," cried Sir Harry, laying his hand upon his young friend's bridle rein. "Come with me as fast as possible down this lane. There is not an instant to lose;" and, turning Seymour's horse, he led him a prisoner to the mouth of a narrow green cart-road through the wood. Then freeing his bridle, he spurred on at a gallop, beckoning to the young gentleman to follow. Seymour did so in some consternation; and on they went as if they were hunting the deer, till, at the first turning to the right, where the woods concealed them from the high road, Sir Harry quitted the path he was following, and somewhat slackened his pace.
"Now, in heaven's name, tell me what is the matter!" exclaimed William Seymour, much alarmed.
"Why you have just escaped, by five minutes, the discovery of the whole," said Sir Harry West. "Late last night arrived at Malvoisie Sir Thomas Overbury and Chaloner, with the King's commands for the Lady Arabella to join the Court at Greenwich. Not knowing when you would arrive, or by what road, we have been most anxious, as you may suppose; and they, as if they had some suspicion, and were determined to detect you, have arranged, that as the lady chose to go by water in the Earl's barge, Chaloner should accompany her; while Overbury, who says his complexion is delicate, is to proceed with his men by the high road. The Countess has promised to detain him as long as possible, in order that he might not meet you at the gates; and while your own two men have been sent, one upon the river, and the other by the lower road, to give you warning, I came out here to watch for you, expecting every moment to see Overbury at my heels."
"How often disappointment meets us at the gates of expectation!" exclaimed Seymour. "What is to be done now, Sir Harry?--Do you imagine they have discovered anything?"
"In truth I cannot say," answered Sir Harry West; "I hope and trust not, for no hint has been given, even of a suspicion. But, at all events, the Countess will let us know when we see her, for she is determined to gain some intelligence from Overbury; and you may trust to her shrewd wit for arriving at the truth."
"But what is to be done now?" cried Seymour again, in a tone of despair. "What is to be done now?"
"The first thing to be done," replied Sir Harry West, "is for you to come with me to the gamekeeper's cottage, and there to lie concealed, till the Countess sends us word that these people are gone. As for the rest, William, this is but a silly business. Methinks the world is losing its wits; and that for this same idle passion of love, men are casting from them all those great considerations which are, in fact, the first in life. Here is the Earl of Devonshire breaks down the noblest name that any man in his own day has created for himself, and all for what?--A harlot!"
"Oh, name her not," exclaimed Seymour, indignantly, "name her not in the same breath with Arabella. If that woman be not worth--as she is not--the lightest thought of an honourable man, she whom I love is surely, by her virtues as well as graces, an object for which any man might sacrifice the highest fortunes of the world without a sign. What is it that we seek on earth, but happiness, Sir Harry? All other objects of ambition are but means to that great end; and it is but in estimating well that in which happiness consists, that men show the difference of their natures. Where--I ask you, my good friend--where could I find any object equal to that I should lose in her, if she be lost?--to that which I shall gain in her, if she be gained? What can one win by the unfruitful glory of the sword, but the malediction of thousands, if we make it the object of ambition? The only just cause is our country's good; and noble love has always strengthened, rather than depressed, the powers and energies of those who fight in an honest quarrel. What are the poor contentions of the cabinet, or the small and mean ambitions of a Court? The weights under which all good things are pressed out of the felon spirit. But such love as I feel for her, and she for me, will not only give happiness to both, but, founded in high and honourable passion, will strengthen and support us in every principle of right, and every worthy endeavour."
"'Tis all very true, my young friend," replied Sir Harry West, "and I never for a moment thought of comparing this sweet lady with that bad woman, Rich. Nevertheless, with the impediments that have stared you in the face from the beginning, with the danger of bringing misery upon her as well as yourself, I cannot but say it would have been wiser far to have refrained, to have nipped the growing passion in the bud, and never to have let it take such firm root that it could not be plucked up. It is a silly business, Seymour, I repeat; and God send it prove not sad as well as silly.--However, as it has gone thus far, it must needs now go on; and I must help it, I suppose; for it is never fear for myself that urges me, when I strive to dissuade a friend from a dangerous course, which may involve me with him. We can determine upon nothing yet, till we hear what news the Countess has obtained.--On my life, I know not well my way to this gamekeeper's house, but as we are out of sight of the road it does not so much matter."