"Let me think, idle boy!--Let me think. Would you be chained to the collar of a boar, to be dragged with him, wallowing through the blood of the dogs, which will soon be let loose to hunt him to the death?" "I know not what you mean," exclaimed the young nobleman; "have you gone mad, Arden?" "It is you who are mad, if you see not the object of this letter," replied Arden. "Hope to you--suspense to Fulmer--both for the same purpose. To keep you his. He holds out a prize to the eyes of both, to be won by a race of services and submissions to himself. Will you enter upon this course, Chartley? Will you, even for the hand of Iola, become the labouring straining serf of him who slew your royal master's children, slaughtered innocent babes, spilt the blood of his own house? See through his artful policy--shut not your eyes to his purpose--calculate the price you must pay for his support of your suit--judge accurately whether, when all is done, the hypocrite will keep the spirit of his promise; and then choose your path." "I saw it not in that light," replied Chartley, at once brought down to a graver mood, "and yet it may be as you say." "May be? It is!" replied Arden, "by St. Peter, that dear little girl was right and wise, to fly away and not be made a decoy to lead the game into his net! She knew it not indeed; but that matters not. 'Tis well that she is gone. Her foolish uncle must be sent to court, to confess his sins and excuse them as he may. It is the best course for him, the best result for us. Time--it is time we want." "But I want something more, Arden," said. Chartley. "I want liberty--freedom to act as I will. Then my course is soon decided. By Heaven, I have a thousand minds to rise upon my ward master, bind him, and carry him with me--whither he would be right willing to go, _under compulsion_." "No, Chartley, no!" answered Arden. "I will not put a colouring upon my actions that they merit not. I will not seem to do by force that which I am afraid to do with good will and openly." "Then what will you do? How will you act?" demanded Chartley, somewhat puzzled. "'Tis a case of difficulty," replied Arden, musing. "I must not accept a charge and then violate a trust; I must not shelter a breach of faith under an equivocation." "But if you refuse to ward me," answered Chartley, "'Tis certain I shall be placed in stricter hands."