beyond the power of rescue.”  She paused; but when she observed that Wayland continued to look on her with that anxious and uncertain gaze which indicated a doubt whether her brain was settled, she assumed an air of composure, and added, “Do thou but guide me to Kenilworth Castle, good fellow, and thy task is ended, since I will then judge what further is to be done.  Thou hast yet been true to me—­here is something that will make thee rich amends.”

She offered the artist a ring containing a valuable stone.  Wayland looked at it, hesitated a moment, and then returned it.  “Not,” he said, “that I am above your kindness, madam, being but a poor fellow, who have been forced, God help me! to live by worse shifts than the bounty of such a person as you.  But, as my old master the farrier used to say to his customers, ‘No cure, no pay.’  We are not yet in Kenilworth Castle, and it is time enough to discharge your guide, as they say, when you take your boots off.  I trust in God your ladyship is as well assured of fitting reception when you arrive, as you may hold yourself certain of my best endeavours to conduct you thither safely.  I go to get the horses; meantime, let me pray you once more, as your poor physician as well as guide, to take some sustenance.”

“I will—­I will,” said the lady hastily.  “Begone, begone instantly!—­It is in vain I assume audacity,” said she, when he left the room; “even this poor groom sees through my affectation of courage, and fathoms the very ground of my fears.”

She then attempted to follow her guide’s advice by taking some food, but was compelled to desist, as the effort to swallow even a single morsel gave her so much uneasiness as amounted well-nigh to suffocation.  A moment afterwards the horses appeared at the latticed window.  The lady mounted, and found that relief from the free air and change of place which is frequently experienced in similar circumstances.

It chanced well for the Countess’s purpose that Wayland Smith, whose previous wandering and unsettled life had made him acquainted with almost all England, was intimate with all the byroads, as well as direct communications, through the beautiful county of Warwick.  For such and so great was the throng which flocked in all directions towards Kenilworth, to see the entry of Elizabeth into that splendid mansion of her prime favourite, that the principal roads were actually blocked up and interrupted, and it was only by circuitous by-paths that the travellers could proceed on their journey.

The Queen’s purveyors had been abroad, sweeping the farms and villages of those articles usually exacted during a royal Progress, and for which the owners were afterwards to obtain a tardy payment from the Board of Green Cloth.  The Earl of Leicester’s household officers had been scouring the country for the same purpose; and many of his friends and allies, both near and remote, took this opportunity of ingratiating