The mysterious stranger, our hero still following, descended the great stairs, crossed the inner and entrance-halls, and went out at the great door; then, hurrying past the flaring flambeaux of the servants in attendance on waiting carriages, made for a thick grove at a considerable distance. Arrived at the grove the figure proceeded some way among the thickest of the trees. Edmund followed, for a time, in silence; at length he demanded, rather angrily, whither the fellow meant to lead him. The stranger made no reply, but continued his rapid pace towards the most remote, and, by there appearing no lights in that direction, evidently the most unfrequented part of the grounds. “I will follow no further,” said Edmund, standing still, after a quick pursuit of some minutes. “If there is, indeed, any important communication which it is necessary should be made to me in private, we have been long since far enough removed from all possibility of being overheard.” The juggler stopped, and faced about. “Young man,” he said, “you may well believe that my business here this evening was not to play the idle mummery you have witnessed. Follow me, therefore!”

“If your business regards me, name it now, and here!” said Edmund. The stranger fixed his eyes on those of our hero, while, beneath his cloak, he grasped something which Edmund almost held out his hand to receive, so sure did he feel for the moment that it must be a packet of papers containing the information he so much desired to obtain. The stranger’s hand appeared to hesitate. The fellow spoke again, perhaps to gain time. “The daughter of Lord L?,” he said slowly, his eyes still fixed on Edmund, “must never be the wife of ?,” he paused, drew a step nearer, then recommenced, “hereafter you shall know, of whom; at this crisis there might be danger in the discovery.”

“I will know all this moment!” exclaimed Edmund, “else why have I been led here? I will not be trifled with, sir! If your words have any meaning, explain them! If they have none, and that you have dared to make my most sacred feelings the subject of an impertinent and indelicate jest, be assured that, whoever you may be, you shall answer to me for such conduct.” So saying, he seized a firm hold of the fellow’s cloak. The ruffian turned, with a sort of triumphant laugh, grasped Edmund’s right arm with his left hand, while with his right he drew a sword from beneath his cloak, and made a thrust at our unprepared hero. Edmund, however, by a single fortunate effort, disengaged himself, evaded the first thrust, drew his sword, and intercepted the second. The villain made another and another stroke, each of which our hero parried with equal success; when, the now infuriated ruffian, with a sudden leap backward and bound forward, made a direct lunge at the breast of his intended victim; which, as our hero at the instant dexterously sprang aside, came with such force on the trunk of the tree, in front of which he had stood but the second before, that the sword of his ferocious assailant was shattered to the very hilt.

Edmund, now resting the point of his weapon on the ground, commanded the man, whom he considered in no condition to resist, being disarmed, to return with him to the Castle. For reply, the juggler drew a pistol from the belt beneath his cloak, and, thrusting it close to our hero’s face, fired! The steadiness of the ruffian’s hand must have been previously shaken by the force with which his sword had struck against the trunk of the tree; for the lighting charge shot perpendicularly upwards, like a sky-rocket. Throwing the pistol from him, and cursing it aloud, the villain drew out the second, levelled it better, and was in the act of pulling the trigger, when Edmund, by this time more on his guard, had the presence of mind to strike its muzzle aside with his sword. The balls flew through the trees, wide of the intended aim. The juggler stood a moment confounded, then eyed Edmund’s raised arm, as if meditating a dart at it, with the desperate purpose of possessing himself of the weapon it held. But the threatening position of the blade seemed to deter him, while, the noise of the shots having arrested the attention of the nearest group of merry-makers, their flambeaux were seen, by their quick movements, to express instant alarm, crossing and recrossing each other in great confusion. Then, they separated in every possible direction, resembling wandering meteors through the surrounding darkness; while each moving star was accompanied by a voice, crying, “Thieves! thieves! thieves!” as they evidently approached, guided by Edmund’s directing call, to the spot on which he stood.

The hitherto determined ruffian now turned and fled. Edmund pursued, and was at first so close behind him, that he again laid hold of the villain’s cloak, which, however, now yielded itself a too easy captive; while its owner darted round a thick clump of wood, and was seen no more. All who came up of course assisted in the pursuit or rather search, but in vain. From the moment the fugitive was first lost sight of, no one knew in what direction to seek him. Some suggested that he had most probably turned back, favoured by the shelter of the trees, and throwing off such of his disguises as might lead to a recognition of his person, joined the throng of his own pursuers. Indeed, the multitude of people on the grounds at the time was so great, that to have traced among them an unknown individual, and in the dark too, was a thing so totally out of the range of possibility, that the idea was soon given up. On the part of Edmund, certainly, with infinite regret, for he was very unwilling to resign the not irrational hope he had for a short time entertained of discovering something of his own mysterious fate; even by finding out who had an interest in his destruction. A very little reflection, however, served to convince him, that any further attempt at pursuit must be perfectly vain; for if the villain were even seized, how was he to be identified? no one had seen him unmasked, and the very proportions of his figure had been concealed by his juggler’s robes. Much disappointed, therefore, our hero bent his steps towards the Castle, which the alarm had not yet reached.