"
"Tush, Adam Twisden! I am well enough," exclaimed Wyat impatiently.
"Go and prepare my mails."
"My dear, dear master," cried old Adam, bending the knee before him,
and pressing his hand to his lips; "something tells me that if I leave you
now I shall never see you again. There is a paleness in your cheek, and
a fire in your eye, such as I never before observed in you, or in mortal
man. I tremble to say it, but you look like one possessed by the fiend.
Forgive my boldness, sir. I speak from affection and duty. I was
serving-man to your father, good Sir Henry Wyat, before you, and I love
you as a son, while I honour you as a master. I have heard that there
are evil beings in the forest--nay, even within the castle--who lure men
to perdition by promising to accomplish their wicked desires. I trust no
such being has crossed your path."
"Make yourself easy, good Adam," replied Wyat; "no fiend has tempted
me."
"Swear it, sir," cried the old man eagerly--" swear it by the Holy Trinity."
"By the Holy Trinity, I swear it! " replied Wyat.
As the words were uttered, the door behind the arras was suddenly
shut with violence.
"Curses on you, villain! you have left the door open," cried Wyat fiercely.
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