The Duke thought for a moment, and the images of the trial by his peers, the block and the axe, came up before his sight, making the private marriage of his daughter with Wilton, and the escape to France or Flanders, appear bright in the comparison.

“Well, my lord, well,” he said, “I not only pledge myself, but pledge myself willingly.  I always liked Wilton, I always esteemed him highly; and I suppose he would have had Laura at last, if he did not have her now.”

“I congratulate you on your approaching freedom, Duke,” said the Earl, “and as to the rest, I have told you perfectly true, in saying that it is not Wilton who makes any conditions with you.  He knows nothing of the matter, and is as eager to set you at liberty without any terms at all, as you could be yourself to obtain it.  You had better, therefore, let me speak with him on the subject altogether.  Should he come here before he sees me, only tell him that the marriage is to take place to-morrow evening, that it is all settled between you and me, and that as to the means of setting you free, he must talk with me upon the subject.  You must then furnish him with your consent to the immediate marriage under your own hand.  After that is done, he and I will arrange all the rest.”

The Duke acquiesced in all that was proposed to him, having once given his consent to the only step which was repugnant to him to take.  Nay more, that point being overcome, and his mind elevated by the hope of escape, he even went before Lord Byerdale in suggesting arrangements which would facilitate the whole business.

“I will tell Laura after you are gone, my lord,” he said, “and her consent will be easily obtained, I am sure, both because I know she would do anything to save my life, and because I shrewdly believe—­indeed she has not scrupled to admit—­that she loves this young man already.  I will manage all that with her, and then I will leave her and Wilton, and Wilton and your lordship, to make all the rest of the arrangements.”

“Do so, do so,” said the Earl, rising, “and I will not fail, my lord, as soon as you are safe, to use every influence in my power for the purpose of obtaining your pardon, which will be much more easily gained when you are beyond the power of the English law, than while you are actually within its gripe.”

The Earl was now about to take his departure, and some more ceremonious words passed between him and the Duke, in regard to their leave-taking.  Just as the Earl had reached the door, however, a sudden apprehension seemed to seize the prisoner, who exclaimed, “Stay, my good lord, stay, one moment more!  Of course your lordship is upon honour with me, as I am with you?  There is no possibility, no probability, of my escape being prevented after my daughter’s hand is given?”

Nothing more mortified the Earl of Byerdale than to find, that, notwithstanding all his skill, there was still a something of insincerity penetrated through the veil he cast over his conduct, and made many persons, even the most easily deceived, doubtful of his professions and advances.