Richard de Ashby mounted the stairs with a slow step, paused at the first landing-place and grasped his forehead with his extended hand, then turned upon his steps; and, descending to the kitchen, in which were seated an immense number of various classes, he beckoned to one of his servants, who was near the fire-place.

The man started up, and came to him at the door, when his master said, in a low tone, "You must take your horse as soon as he is fed, and speed across the country as if for life and death, to bear a letter from me to the Lord Alured, in Cumberland.--Have every thing ready in an hour."

"What! to-night, sir?" demanded the servant.

"Ay, to-night, villain!" replied his master; "to-night, I say!--Do you grumble?" and without waiting for any further answer, he turned, and once more ascended the stairs.

The inn was a rude old building, having a square court in the centre. It consisted of two stories above the ground-floor; and two ranges of open galleries ran round the whole yard, the chambers having no screen between them and the free air of heaven but the single door by which one entered or went out of each.

It was to the highest of the galleries that Richard de Ashby now directed his steps, for arriving late, it had been with difficulty he had found lodging at all. He had no light with him; but finding his way by the dim glare of some lanterns in the court, he stopped at the last chamber on the right hand side: and, after another halt of more than a minute passed in stern meditation, he threw, open the door and went in.

The room was a large one, forming the corner of the building, and having windows either way. There was a wide chimney, in which was a blazing log of wood, lighted to dispel the damp which the chamber might have contracted by disuse; and gazing at the changing aspect of the flame, sat fair, but unhappy, Kate Greenly, with her head resting on her hand, and her eyes full of deep and sorrowful thought.

"Get thee to bed," cried Richard de Ashby, in a rude and angry tone, as soon as he saw her; "did I not bid thee get to bed before?"

"I have had many things to think of," answered the girl. "I wish thou hadst left me behind thee, Richard. I love not going so near what was once my home."

"It was my will," replied he; "that must be enough for thee. Get thee to bed, I say.--I have to write and think."

Kate took a step away from him, but then looked round, and said, "Tell me first, Richard, art thou taking me back, wearied of her you used to love, to the once happy dwelling from which you brought me not six months ago?--If so, I will not go with you any farther."

"Thou wilt do what I order," he answered, sternly; "I am in no mood either for squabbling or jesting to-night.--Thou wilt go no farther, ha! By heaven thou wouldst make me resolve to take thee back by force, or send thee with a billet like some packet of goods.--But no, I will not send thee," he added, "I will not take thee; and knowest thou why? Not that I love thee--not that I care for thee more than for the flower that was yesterday in my breast, and is now cast away into the dust. But they have asked me to send thee back--they have ordered me; and therefore I will not! There is no power on earth shall tear thee from me; but I will take care to make thee serviceable, too. Get thee to bed, I say, and importune me no more.--What! send thee back to please Hugh de Monthermer!"

"He is a noble gentleman," answered Kate, "and in good sooth wished me well, though I knew it not."

"Thou art a fool!" cried Richard, violently; and, at the same moment, he took a step forward and struck her a blow on the cheek with his extended hand, adding, "Get thee to bed, minion, and let me hear thy tongue no more."

Kate\'s flashing eyes glared at him as if she could have stabbed him where he stood; but the instant after she darted towards the bed, cast herself upon her knees beside it, and, hiding her weeping face upon the coverings, she murmured forth some rapid and eager words, which her base seducer neither heard nor cared to hear.

Seating himself by a table on which stood a lamp, he took forth the materials for writing from some large leathern bags which lay near; but ere he commenced the letter which he proposed to send, he passed a full half hour in deep meditation. Once during the time he looked round, apparently to see if the poor girl he had treated so basely was still up; but she had retired to bed; and, hearing her breathing deep and slow, he concluded that, like a child, she had wept herself to sleep. He then turned himself to meditate again, and we must look into his bosom, and give the turbulent words which were uttered in his inmost heart as if they had been spoken aloud.

"Ay," he thought, "if Alured had been here this mischief would not have occurred. The old fool is in his dotage! I wonder how it happened, when many a brave, strong man fell at Evesham, ere the battle had raged half-an-hour, this feeble old wiseacre went through the whole day unwounded! Had he been killed it might have made a mighty difference to me, and no great harm to any one."

At that point his thoughts seemed to pause for several minutes, ruminating on the advantages which might have accrued to himself had the Earl fallen at Evesham. "And yet," he continued, "this bull-headed cousin of mine, Alured, were nearly as great a stumbling-block in my way, even if the old man were removed. He would not be long, if left alone at the head of the house, ere he wedded some fair and fruitful lady, to exclude my claims for ever with a whole host of healthy white-headed children. I was in some hopes, if he sought out Monthermer in the battle, as he said, our enemy\'s lance might have proved friendly to me, and sent my noble cousin to another world. But it was not to be, and I suppose I must go on the poor dependent all my life.

"No," he continued, after another pause, "no, it shall not be so.--Why should I fear for drivelling tales of other worlds told by the monks and priests, and invented by them also?--Were Alured once dead, \'twere an easy matter to remove that weak old man--and yet, perhaps, it were better to send him first to his account.--Ha! I see, I see.--If one could manage it so as to cast suspicion on Monthermer, Alured would speedily accuse him of the deed; wager of battle must follow, and I were a fool if I could not contrive it so that Alured\'s vain strength should go down before Monthermer\'s skill and courage."

"In such fields as those," he added, speaking, though in a low, thoughtful tone, "such men separate not with life.--Methinks the matter were easily managed.--\'Tis no light prize one plays for!--the earldom of Ashby, the broad lands, the parks, the woods, the fields--ay, and to crown the whole, the fair hand of Lucy herself; for, her brother and her father dead, she must needs become my ward, and if my ward, my wife. It is worth striving for, and by heaven and hell, it shall be so,--ay, let what will stand in the way,--Could I but breed a quarrel between this old dotard Earl and the ancient enemy of our house, whom he is so ready to take to his bosom, I would soon accomplish the rest. But it shall be done,--it shall be done!" And leaning his dark brow upon his hands, he revolved the means for carrying his plan into e............