“Hear me, then,” said Janet.  “One whom I deem an assured friend of yours has shown himself to me in various disguises, and sought speech of me, which—­for my mind was not clear on the matter until this evening—­I have ever declined.  He was the pedlar who brought you goods—­the itinerant hawker who sold me books; whenever I stirred abroad I was sure to see him.  The event of this night determined me to speak with him.  He awaits even now at the postern gate of the park with means for your flight.—­But have you strength of body?—­have you courage of mind?—­can you undertake the enterprise?”

“She that flies from death,” said the lady, “finds strength of body—­she that would escape from shame lacks no strength of mind.  The thoughts of leaving behind me the villain who menaces both my life and honour would give me strength to rise from my deathbed.”

“In God’s name, then, lady,” said Janet, “I must bid you adieu, and to God’s charge I must commit you!”

“Will you not fly with me, then, Janet?” said the Countess, anxiously.  “Am I to lose thee?  Is this thy faithful service?”

“Lady, I would fly with you as willingly as bird ever fled from cage, but my doing so would occasion instant discovery and pursuit.  I must remain, and use means to disguise the truth for some time.  May Heaven pardon the falsehood, because of the necessity!”

“And am I then to travel alone with this stranger?” said the lady.  “Bethink thee, Janet, may not this prove some deeper and darker scheme to separate me perhaps from you, who are my only friend?”

“No, madam, do not suppose it,” answered Janet readily; “the youth is an honest youth in his purpose to you, and a friend to Master Tressilian, under whose direction he is come hither.”

“If he be a friend of Tressilian,” said the Countess, “I will commit myself to his charge as to that of an angel sent from heaven; for than Tressilian never breathed mortal man more free of whatever was base, false, or selfish.  He forgot himself whenever he could be of use to others.  Alas! and how was he requited?”

With eager haste they collected the few necessaries which it was thought proper the Countess should take with her, and which Janet, with speed and dexterity, formed into a small bundle, not forgetting to add such ornaments of intrinsic value as came most readily in her way, and particularly a casket of jewels, which she wisely judged might prove of service in some future emergency.  The Countess of Leicester next changed her dress for one which Janet usually wore upon any brief journey, for they judged it necessary to avoid every external distinction which might attract attention.  Ere these preparations were fully made, the moon had arisen in the summer heaven, and all in the mansion had betaken themselves to rest, or at least to the silence and retirement of their chambers.