He would do nothing rashly: calm consideration, quiet, and time, were indispensable; and the matter _should_ have his calm thoughts,--his time,--his whole mental powers. Beyond this, the case would be one which involved much more in a legal point of view; for, although it might be possible to prove that Edward L'Estrange was Viscount de Vere, and in his own right Earl of Wentworth, by his career he had forfeited all title to such honours. He was a felon by the laws of his country,--a man outlawed, and lying under the ban of God and his fellow-creatures. The point at issue was this: had his marriage been a legal one?--had he any family? For incontestably, could this be proved, then the Earl was no longer so; but the son or daughter of this marriage would succeed to the title, and himself drop into Mr. de Vere. Lord Wentworth was a man, and felt keenly the degradation of such an issue--it was gall and wormwood to him. Though by blood L'Estrange was his brother, had he in any way merited his love? Had he not been his rival--his bitter enemy through life? And this rival--this enemy--was able to deprive him of his name, his wealth, his future peace!--and all depended on these records he held in his hand. No wonder, as he passed across the thin bridge on his way out, and heard the thundering torrent foaming and swirling beneath, he felt tempted to drop the fatal budget into the wild waters, and trust the secret to the keeping of the waves. We are glad to say his better feelings overcame the trial, and he bore up under a temptation, it is not too much to say, half the world would have succumbed to. "No," he thought, "I will let law take its course, it were mean not to hear both sides." The two passed the bridge, and soon afterwards arrived at the spot where they had left their horses, when Leonora unbound her father's eyes. The face of Nature had changed since he was there bound two hours ago; the moon had reached her zenith, a few only of the brighter stars shone out, the air had gradually cooled till it was beyond freshness, and the Earl wrapt his cloak tighter round him. Leonora blew her whistle--it was instantly answered,--a bandit broke through the woods leading two horses: they were not the same, but equally well bred, and richly caparisoned. After assisting Leonora to mount, the Earl was soon firmly seated in his own saddle, and, giving a douceur to the man, followed Leonora slowly up the steep acclivity till they regained the road, and the scene of the morning's assault. He was surprised to find all the bodies had disappeared; the two poles were there--their burdens gone! the marks of the fray were still visible, the bodies of the disputants gone. "What have they done with them?" he asked Leonora, pointing to the spot. "They have taken them to the cave," answered the girl, "where they will be buried; it is not usually done--but there is fear of discovery now--so they have obliterated all marks."