“You can do him no greater service than to aid in procuring him such a wife—nor better serve your country than in giving it such a queen,” rejoined Seymour. “But I must be gone, sweetheart. A cup of wine, and then adieu!”
“So soon!” she exclaimed, reproachfully.
“It is late, and I must perforce tear myself away. But it is a consolation to think that it is the last time we shall need to separate thus. To-morrow you will come to Seymour House as a guest, but you will remain as its mistress. Adieu, sweetheart!”
Tenderly embracing her, he then resumed his cap and cloak, and departed.
Descending the secret staircase, he shortly afterwards issued from the postern, and set off towards the spot where his boat awaited him. The night was profoundly dark, but notwithstanding the obscurity, Seymour fancied he perceived a figure standing directly in his path. On this he halted, but after a moment’s hesitation went on.
Meanwhile, the dark figure remained stationary. As the admiral advanced, he saw that the personage, whoever he might be, was not alone, but that behind him were two other persons, who, as far as could be discerned in the obscurity, were armed. Though he would willingly have shunned an encounter at such a moment, Seymour was not the man to turn back. He therefore called out to them, and drew his sword.
“‘T is he!—’t is the admiral!” exclaimed the foremost personage. “I am satisfied. We may retire.”
“Not till you have explained your business,” cried Seymour, springing upon him and seizing him by the throat.
“Take your hands from me, my lord,” cried the person he had seized, in a stern voice, which was quite familiar to Seymour.
“How is this?—my Lord of Warwick here!” he ex claimed. “Has your lordship condescended to play the spy?”
“I came here to satisfy myself concerning a report that has reached me,” rejoined Warwick. “I have seen enough to satisfy me that what I heard was correct.”
“Think not to depart thus, my lord,” cried Seymour. “You have chosen to pry into my affairs, and must pay the penalty of a detected meddler. Either pledge your word to silence, or I will put it out of your power to prate of what concerns you not. Look to yourself, I say.”
“I will not balk you, my lord,” rejoined Warwick, drawing his sword; “so come on! Stand off, gentlemen,” he added to the others, who advanced towards him; “I can give the admiral his Quietus without your aid.”
In another instant his blade was crossed with that of Seymour. Both were expert swordsmen, and if there had been light enough, the conflict might have been of some duration, but the admiral pressed his antagonist with so much vigor, that the latter stumbled while retreating, and the next moment the point of his opponent’s weapon was at his throat. The admiral, however, forbore to strike.
“Take your life, my lord,” said Seymour, stepping back. “Your sense of honor will now keep your lips closed, and I trust to you to impose silence upon your followers.”
“Fear nothing either from them or me, my lord admiral,” replied Warwick. “I own I did wrong in coming here at all; and having said so, you will not refuse me your hand.”
“Enough, my lord,” rejoined the admiral, grasping the hand extended to him. “I shall hope to see you at Seymour House to-morrow night, when all this mystery shall be satisfactorily cleared. Till then, I count upon your discretion.”
“Doubt me not, my lord,” replied Warwick. “I will not attempt to read your riddle, though I think I could guess it. Good night. My horses are at the garden gate.”
“And my boat is yonder—beneath the trees, Goodnight, my lord.”
With this they separated, the admiral speeding towards the river, and Warwick, with his attendants, shaping his course in the opposite direction.
As he went on, Seymour muttered to himself, “I had enough to do to stay my hand just now when Warwick lay at my mercy, for I suspect him of treachery. Yet I did right to spare him. To have slain him here would have led to ill consequences. If he crosses me again, I will find other and safer means of dealing with him.”
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