A ROMANCE. BY THE AUTHOR OF "WAVERLEY,” “IVANHOE,” &c. &c. PUBLISHED BY EDWIN T. SCOTT, 61, NORTH EIGHTH STREET. KENILWORTH. CHAPTER I. The moment comes It is already come-when thou must write SCHILLER'S Wallenstein, by Coleridge. WHEN Leicester returned to his lodging, after a day so important and so harassing, in which, after riding out more than one gale, and touching on more than one shoal, his bark had finally gained the harbour with banner displayed, he seemed to experience as much fatigue as a mariner after a perilous storm. He spoke not a word while his chamberlain exchanged his rich court mantle for a furred night-robe, and when this officer signified that master Varney desired to speak with his lordship, he replied only by a sullen nod. Varney, however, entered accepting this signal as a permission, and the chamberlain withdrew. The earl remained silent and almost motionless in his chair, his head reclined on his hand, and his elbow resting upon the table which stood beside him, without seeming to be conscious of the entrance, or of the presence of his confidant. Varney waited for some minutes until he should speak, desirous to know what was the finally predominant mood of a mind, through which so many powerful emotions had that day taken their course. But he waited in vain, for Leicester continued still silent, and the confidant saw himself under the necessity of being the first to speak. May I congratulate your lordship,' he said, 'on the deserved superiority you have this day attained over your most formidable rival?' Leicester raised his head, and answered sadly, but without anger. 'Thou, Varney, whose ready invention has involved me in a web of most mean and perilous falsehood, knowest best what reason there is for gratulation on the subject.' 'Do you blame me, my lord,' said Varney, 'for not betraying, on the first push, the secret on which your fortunes depended; and which you have so oft and so earnestly recommended to my safe keeping? Your lordship was present in person, and might have contradicted me and ruined yourself by an avowel of the truth; but surely it was no part of a faithful servant to have done so without your commands.' 'I cannot deny it, Varney,' said the earl, rising and walking across the room; 'my own ambition has "been traitor to my love.' 'Say rather, my lord, that your love has been traitor to your greatness, and barred you from such a prospect of honour and power as the world cannot offer to any other. To make my honoured lady a countess, you have missed the chance of being your. self. |