The Prince and the courtly train passed out--and, lastly, Sir Jocelyn
and the object of his affections. Vainly did he seek for his relative
and benefactor. Osmond Mounchensey had disappeared. But, just as the
young Knight and his fair companion were quitting the house, Luke
Hatton, followed by two porters, bearing a stout chest, approached them,
and said--
"Sir Jocelyn, you have seen the last of your uncle. He has charged me to
bid you an eternal adieu. You will never hear of him again, unless you
hear of his death. May no thoughts of him mar your happiness--or that of
her you love. This is what he bade me say to you. This chest contains
the title-deeds of your estates--and amongst them is a deed of gift from
him to you. They will be conveyed by these porters whithersoever you may
direct them. And now, having discharged mine office, I must take my
leave."
"Stay, Sir," cried Sir Jocelyn; "I would fain send a message to my
uncle."
"I cannot convey it," replied Luke Hatton. "You must rest content with
what I have told you. To you, and to all others, Osmond Mounchensey is
as the dead."
With this, he hastily retreated.
Three days after this, the loving pair were wedded; and the
ceremony--which was performed with strict privacy, in accordance with
the wishes of the bride--being concluded, they set out upon their
journey into Norfolk. Sir Jocelyn had noticed among the spectators of
the marriage rites, a tall personage wrapped in a sable cloak, whom he
suspected to be his uncle; but, as the individual was half hidden by a
pillar of the ancient fabric, and as he lost sight of him before he
could seek him out, he never could be quite sure of the fact.
Pages:
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251