"But, one thing more," said the gipsy, "one thing more,--you shall, on no account whatever, lead--or give such information as may lead--the father of Edward de Vaux to the place where his son is."
"That is somewhat extraordinary," said Manners; "but I suppose, of course, that this person to whom you allude is Lord Dewry's enemy."
"He was once his friend," said the gipsy, "and, perhaps, now that lord may speak of him as such, for there is no knowing by what terms his deep and crafty spirit may designate the people whom he most hates. Not a week ago he gave me gold, and would fain have made me think he loved me; but I knew him to the heart, and I saw the serpent in his eye."
Whatever Manners might think of the evident hatred, strong and reciprocal, which existed between the peer and the singular person with whom he now stood, he did not judge it expedient to risk the advantages he had gained by defending Lord Dewry, especially as circumstances placed the power of dictating the conditions in the hands of the gipsy. "My acquaintance with De Vaux's father," he said, "has been too short to acquire any knowledge of his real character."
"It would require years, long years," said the gipsy, "to know his character as I know it--long, long years!--or one of those lightning flashes of nature that sometimes, whether men will or not, burst from the darkness in which they shroud themselves, and show at once the deep secrets of their spirit."
"At all events," said Manners, "common humanity leads me to wish much to inform the unhappy father of his son's safety, and doubtless your conditions do not imply that I should refrain from such proceeding, as soon as I have, with my own eyes, seen my poor friend's condition."
"In that respect, you shall be guided by him to whom I send you," answered Pharold. "It is sufficient for me to ensure, that the confidence he has placed in me will be betrayed by no fault of mine--that compassion for a gentle and innocent girl does not lead me to risk defeating the plans of a man who trusts me. I know that when you have pledged your word, you will hold it sacred. Your actions have spoken for you! Will you accept the conditions?"
"I will!" answered Manners; "and only beg of you to conclude the matter as fast as possible."
"Well, then!" said the gipsy, pointing through the valley towards the line of the distant hills; "you see yon moon, just raising her golden round behind the thin trees upon the upland. When she has risen ten palms breadths upon the sky, you shall find me here again, and I will lead you to him you seek."
"Nay, but," said Manners, "I thought you were about to conduct me thither now."