CHAPTER XI.
AN UNFORTUNATE DENOUEMENT.
But
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best laid schemes o' mice and men
Gang aft a-gley.
BURNS.
As Edmund drew nearer to Sir Thomas Stanley his heart began to fail him, and when at last he was sufficiently near the knight to have carried out his design, his courage oozed out at his finger ends and he felt powerless to strike.
Finally he relinquished the attempt altogether, and a new idea flashing upon him, he tossed the knife into the furthest corner of the room, and rising to his feet, he tapped the still unconscious nobleman upon the shoulder, trusting that his careful disguise would preserve him from being recognised by Sir Thomas at least, for circumstances at Haddon had brought them into connection with each other but a few times at most.
"Come at last, eh! and time, too," exclaimed the young knight, as he listlessly held out his hand for his potion of sack. "What, not brought it yet?" he added, as he saw the other's empty hands; "I have been kept waiting for it more than a quarter of an hour."
"Will you have it cool or spiced, my lord?" meekly asked Edmund, following up the idea thus thrown out. "I have but just received the order for it."
"Spiced, indeed!" replied the knight contemptuously; "not I, let me have it fresh from the cellar, and that quickly. No, here, stay," he added by the way of afterthought, "where is Sir George?"
"Sir George! Is that the oldish gentleman with the master?"