The two priests were employed in drawing up a circumstantial account of these discoveries, in order to make their report to the Barons at their return.  In the mean time Mr. William took an opportunity to introduce Edmund to his sister.

“My Emma,” said he, “the heir of Lovel is desirous to pay his respects to you.”

They were both in apparent confusion; but Edmund’s wore off, and Emma’s increased.

“I have been long desirous,” said he, “to pay my respects to the lady whom I most honour, but unavoidable duties have detained me; when these are fully paid, it is my wish to devote the remainder of my life to Lady Emma!”

“Are you, then, the heir of Lovel?”

“I am, madam; and am also the man in whose behalf I once presumed to speak.”

“’Tis very strange indeed!”

“It is so, madam, to myself; but time that reconciles us to all things, will, I hope, render this change in my situation familiar to you.”

William said, “You are both well acquainted with the wishes of my heart; but my advice is, that you do not encourage a farther intimacy till my lord’s determination be fully known.”

“You may dispose of me as you please,” said Edmund; “but I cannot help declaring my wishes; yet I will submit to my Lord’s sentence, though he should doom me to despair.”

From this period, the young pair behaved with solemn respect to each other, but with apparent reserve.  The young lady sometimes appeared in company, but oftener chose to be in her own apartment, where she began to believe and hope for the completion of her wishes.  The uncertainty of the Baron’s determination, threw an air of anxiety over Edmund’s face.  His friend William, by the most tender care and attention, strove to dispel his fears, and encourage his hopes; but he waited with impatience for the return of the commissioners, and the decision of his fate.

While these things passed at the Castle of Lovel, the nominal Baron recovered his health and strength at the house of Lord Clifford.  In the same proportion he grew more and more shy and reserved, avoided the company of his brother and nephew, and was frequently shut up with his two servants.  Sir Robert Fitz-Owen made several attempts to gain his confidence, but in vain; he was equally shy to him as the rest.  M. Zadisky observed his motions with the penetration for which his countrymen have been distinguished in all ages; he communicated his suspicions to Sir Philip and the Barons, giving it as his opinion, that the criminal was meditating an escape.  They asked, what he thought was to be done?  Zadisky offered to watch him in turn with another person, and to lie in wait for him; he also proposed, that horses should be kept in readiness, and men to mount them, without knowledge of the service they were to be employed in.  The Barons agreed to leave the whole management of this affair to Zadisky.  He took his measures so well, that he intercepted the three fugitives in the fields adjoining to the house, and brought them all back prisoner.  They confined them separately, while the Lords and Gentlemen consulted how to dispose of them.