The shades of night were coming on apace, and in consequence
of the gloom he did not remark the traces of distress on her
countenance, but went on with the theme uppermost in his mind.
"I know you have ever avoided shows and triumphs," he said; "but I wish
I could induce you to make an exception in favour of this tilting-match,
and consent to be present at it. The thought that you were looking on
would nerve my arm, and make me certain of success."
"Even if I would, I cannot comply with your request," she replied, in
an agitated tone. "Prepare yourself, Jocelyn. I have bad news for you."
He started; and the vision of delight, in which he had been indulging,
vanished at once.
"The worst news you could have to tell me, would be that the claim had
been made," he observed. "I trust it is not that?"
"It is better to know the worst at once. I have received undoubted
information that the claim _will_ be made."
A cry of anguish escaped Sir Jocelyn, as if a severe blow had been dealt
him--and he could scarcely articulate the inquiry, "By whom?"
"That I know not," she rejoined. "But the ill tidings have been
communicated to me by Sir Giles Mompesson."
"Sir Giles Mompesson!" exclaimed Sir Jocelyn, scarcely able to credit
what he heard. "Your father would never have surrendered you to him. It
is impossible he could have made any compact with such a villain."
"I do not say that he did; and if he had done so, I would die a thousand
deaths, and incur all the penalties attached to the sin of disobedience,
rather than fulfil it.
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