"You mistake, I see, still," replied the knight. "In truth, I know nothing of the science to which you allude. I doubt not that it is one of the most excellent and admirable inquiries in the world; but I am a soldier, my dear sir, and have as yet made but small progress in turning anything into gold."
"'S life! I know not how I came to think so." cried the doctor; "sure, the servant told me so. Ho, Kitty!" and throwing open the door, he called loudly to the woman, "Ho, Kitty! how came you to tell me the gentleman was an adept? Zounds! I've made him sneeze. But who is that I see in the lavery? Oh, uncle Wilbraham! Come in! come in!"
No words can express the joy of the good tutor when he beheld the knight. He embraced him a thousand times; he shook him by the hand; he shed tears of joy, and he made him repeat a thousand times every particular of his escape. "The villain! the wretch!" cried he, whenever the name of Sir Payan was mentioned; "the dissembling hypocrite! We have had news since we left Canterbury that the posse, which I obtained with great difficulty from the magistrates, when they arrived at the manor-house, found every one in bed, but were speedily let in, when Sir Payan sent word down, that though he was much surprised to be so visited, being a magistrate himself, yet the officers might search where they pleased, for that he had had no prisoners during the day but two deer-stealers, whom he had liberated that evening on their penitence. They searched, and found no one, and so sent me a bitter letter this morning for putting them on the business."
"I am glad to hear they found no one," said the knight; "for then my poor companion, Jekin Groby, has escaped. But, let me ask, how is Lady Constance!"
"Alas! not well, my lord, not well!" answered the clergyman. "First, the anxiety about you: in truth, she has never looked well since, not knowing whether you were dead or alive, and having known you in her youth. Then this sudden news, that my lord cardinal will have her marry her noble cousin, Lord Darby, has agitated her."
The knight turned as pale as death, for feelings that had lain unknown in the deepest recesses of his heart swelled suddenly up, and nearly overpowered him. His love for Lady Constance de Grey had run on like a brook in the summer time, which flows sweet, tranquil, and scarcely perceptible, till the first rains that gather in the mountains swell it to a torrent that sweeps away all before it. Of his own feeling he had hitherto known nothing: he had known, he had but felt, that it was sweet to see her, that it was sweet to think of her; but now at once, with the certainty that she was lost to him for ever, came the certainty that he loved her deeply, ardently, irrevocably.
"Umph!" said Dr. Butts, at once comprehending all that the changes of the knight's complexion implied; "umph! it's a bad business."
"Nay, my good nephew, I see not that," answered the clergyman; who, a great deal less clear-sighted than the physician, had neither seen Sir Osborne's paleness, nor for a moment suspected his feelings: "I see not that. 'Tis the very best marriage in the realm for both parties, and the lady is only a little agitated from the anxiety and hurry of the business."
"If that be all," said the doctor, "I'll soon cure her. But tell me, why did you call him 'my lord,' just now?"
Dr. Wilbraham looked at the knight with a glance that seemed to supplicate pardon for his inadvertence; but Sir Osborne soon relieved him. "I am going, Dr. Butts," said he, "to ask your advice and assistance, and therefore my secret must be told you. I ask your advice because you know the court thoroughly, and because having, I am afraid, lost one good means of introducing myself to his grace the king, I would fain discover some other; and I tell you my secret, because I am sure that it is as safe with you as with myself."