"Master Calverly, you will find no man to act more faithfully by you than John Byles. You have been a good friend to me, and I would do any thing to serve you, but——you see a man can't stifle conscience all at once."
"Conscience!" repeated Calverley, with a smile of irony. "Do you know, Byles, I think that conscience of yours will neither serve you in this world, nor in the next! You have too little to make you an honest man, and too much to make you a reckless knave. But a truce with conscience. I have here," said he, holding up the bag of coin, "that which would buy the conscience of twenty such as you; and now, Byles, if you choose to earn this gold, which will be given to another, if you hesitate, swear on these gospels," presenting to the yeoman a Testament, "that you will be a faithful and a willing confederate in my future plans respecting the Holgraves. Will you swear?"
"Yes," replied Byles; but as he spoke, he looked wistfully round, in evident trepidation.
"Are you afraid of good or bad spirits? Nonsense!—do as you have promised, and take the gold."
Byles made the required asseveration, and took the price.
"What are you gazing at, Byles," asked Calverley.
"See, see!" said Byles, pointing to the north-west.
Calverley stept from the shadow of the cliff, and beheld a meteor in the sky, brightening and expanding, as the clouds opened, until it assumed the appearance of a brilliant star, of astonishing magnitude, encircled by dazzling rays, which, in a singular manner, were all inclined in one direction, and pointing to that part of the horizon where lay the rival of England—France.
Even in Calverley's breast, the bad passions were for a moment hushed, as he gazed upon the radiant phenomenon; but upon the more gross, and more timorous mind of Byles, the effect produced was much more striking. He seemed to imagine, that from that brilliant star, some celestial being was about to descend, and blast him with the wrath of heaven: and when a lambent flame, darting across the firmament, played for an instant around the quarry, he concluded that heaven's vengeance had, indeed, overtaken him. Rushing from the haunted spot, he stopped not in his headlong course, until he stood in the midst of a group of half-dressed neighbours near his own door, who had been aroused from their slumbers to gaze upon the comet.
Calverley, although possessed of more moral courage than Byles, and viewing the meteor with altogether different feelings, was yet not so entirely imbued with the philosophy of later times, as to behold it without apprehension. When Byles had fled, he turned, and walked on towards the castle with a more rapid pace than usual.