"Of a surety not," replied the earl.
"And yet, in less than two months I shall return from France," rejoined
Wyat.
"Our cases are not alike," said Surrey. "The Lady Elizabeth Fitzgerald
has plighted her troth to me."
"Anne Boleyn vowed eternal constancy to me," cried Wyat bitterly; "and
you see how she kept her oath. The absent are always in danger; and
few women are proof against ambition. Vanity--vanity is the rock they
split upon. May you never experience from Richmond the wrong I have
experienced from his father."
"I have no fear," replied Surrey.
As he spoke, there was a slight noise in that part of the chamber which
was buried in darkness.
"Have we a listener here?" cried Wyat, grasping his sword.
"Not unless it be a four-legged one from the dungeons beneath," replied
Surrey. "But you were speaking of Richmond. He visited me this
morning, and came to relate the particulars of a mysterious adventure
that occurred to him last night."
And the earl proceeded to detail what had befallen the duke in the
forest.
"A marvellous story, truly!" said Wyat, pondering upon the relation. "I
will seek out the demon huntsman myself."
Again a noise similar to that heard a moment before resounded from the
lower part of the room.
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