Less agitated than her mistress, Janet perceived that the gleam was stationary, and informed the Countess, in a whisper, that the light proceeded from the solitary cell in which the alchemist pursued his occult experiments.  “He is of those,” she added, “who sit up and watch by night that they may commit iniquity.  Evil was the chance which sent hither a man whose mixed speech of earthly wealth and unearthly or superhuman knowledge hath in it what does so especially captivate my poor father.  Well spoke the good Master Holdforth—­and, methought, not without meaning that those of our household should find therein a practical use.  ‘There be those,’ he said, ’and their number is legion, who will rather, like the wicked Ahab, listen to the dreams of the false prophet Zedekiah, than to the words of him by whom the Lord has spoken.’  And he further insisted—­’Ah, my brethren, there be many Zedekiahs among you—­men that promise you the light of their carnal knowledge, so you will surrender to them that of your heavenly understanding.  What are they better than the tyrant Naas, who demanded the right eye of those who were subjected to him?’ And further he insisted—­”

It is uncertain how long the fair Puritan’s memory might have supported her in the recapitulation of Master Holdforth’s discourse; but the Countess now interrupted her, and assured her she was so much recovered that she could now reach the postern without the necessity of a second delay.

They set out accordingly, and performed the second part of their journey with more deliberation, and of course more easily, than the first hasty commencement.  This gave them leisure for reflection; and Janet now, for the first time, ventured to ask her lady which way she proposed to direct her flight.  Receiving no immediate answer—­for, perhaps, in the confusion of her mind this very obvious subject of deliberation had not occurred to the Countess—–­Janet ventured to add, “Probably to your father’s house, where you are sure of safety and protection?”

“No, Janet,” said the lady mournfully; “I left Lidcote Hall while my heart was light and my name was honourable, and I will not return thither till my lord’s permission and public acknowledgment of our marriage restore me to my native home with all the rank and honour which he has bestowed on me.”

“And whither will you, then, madam?” said Janet.

“To Kenilworth, girl,” said the Countess, boldly and freely.  “I will see these revels—­these princely revels—­the preparation for which makes the land ring from side to side.  Methinks, when the Queen of England feasts within my husband’s halls, the Countess of Leicester should be no unbeseeming guest.”

“I pray God you may be a welcome one!” said Janet hastily.

“You abuse my situation, Janet,” said the Countess, angrily, “and you forget your own.”

“I do neither, dearest madam,” said the sorrowful maiden; “but have you forgotten that the noble Earl has given such strict charges to keep your marriage secret, that he may preserve his court-favour? and can you think that your sudden appearance at his castle, at such a juncture, and in such a presence, will be acceptable to him?”