“The villains!” exclaimed Leicester; “but oh, that worst of villains, Varney!—­and she is even now in his power!”

“But not, I trust in God,” said Tressilian, “with any commands of fatal import?”

“No, no, no!” exclaimed the Earl hastily.  “I said something in madness; but it was recalled, fully recalled, by a hasty messenger, and she is now—­she must now be safe.”

“Yes,” said Tressilian, “she must be safe, and I must be assured of her safety.  My own quarrel with you is ended, my lord; but there is another to begin with the seducer of Amy Robsart, who has screened his guilt under the cloak of the infamous Varney.”

“The seducer of Amy!” replied Leicester, with a voice like thunder; “say her husband!—­her misguided, blinded, most unworthy husband!  She is as surely Countess of Leicester as I am belted Earl.  Nor can you, sir, point out that manner of justice which I will not render her at my own free will.  I need scarce say I fear not your compulsion.”

The generous nature of Tressilian was instantly turned from consideration of anything personal to himself, and centred at once upon Amy’s welfare.  He had by no means undoubting confidence in the fluctuating resolutions of Leicester, whose mind seemed to him agitated beyond the government of calm reason; neither did he, notwithstanding the assurances he had received, think Amy safe in the hands of his dependants.  “My lord,” he said calmly, “I mean you no offence, and am far from seeking a quarrel.  But my duty to Sir Hugh Robsart compels me to carry this matter instantly to the Queen, that the Countess’s rank may be acknowledged in her person.”

“You shall not need, sir,” replied the Earl haughtily; “do not dare to interfere.  No voice but Dudley’s shall proclaim Dudley’s infamy.  To Elizabeth herself will I tell it; and then for Cumnor Place with the speed of life and death!”

So saying, he unbound his horse from the tree, threw himself into the saddle, and rode at full gallop towards the Castle.

“Take me before you, Master Tressilian,” said the boy, seeing Tressilian mount in the same haste; “my tale is not all told out, and I need your protection.”

Tressilian complied, and followed the Earl, though at a less furious rate.  By the way the boy confessed, with much contrition, that in resentment at Wayland’s evading all his inquiries concerning the lady, after Dickon conceived he had in various ways merited his confidence, he had purloined from him in revenge the letter with which Amy had entrusted him for the Earl of Leicester.  His purpose was to have restored it to him that evening, as he reckoned himself sure of meeting with him, in consequence of Wayland’s having to perform the part of Arion in the pageant.  He was indeed something alarmed when he saw to whom the letter was addressed; but he argued that, as Leicester did not return to Kenilworth until that evening, it