Wilton’s mind, however, as we have endeavoured to show throughout this book, was not of a character to succumb under a sense of any evils that affected him.  All the painful feelings that assailed him might, it is true, remain indelibly impressed upon his mind for long years.  It was not that the effect wore out, it was only that the mind gained strength, and bore the burden that was cast upon it; and thus, in the present instance, he shook off, in a very short space of time, the thought of his sorrows themselves, to consider more clearly how he should act under them.

But new difficulties presented themselves with this consideration.  He had solemnly pledged himself not to reveal what the Earl had told him till the Duke was placed in safety.  He had pledged himself to Laura to throw no obstacle whatever in the way of her father’s escape by the means which the Earl had proposed.  Neither was there a way of evading any part of the plan as the Earl had arranged it.  Otherwise he would undoubtedly have attempted to postpone the marriage till after the Duke was free, and then, having placed his own honour beyond all question, to tell Laura and her father the whole truth.  But as the Earl had taken care to inform the governor of the Tower that he was to go out with Lady Laura and the attendants after his private marriage to her, there could be no pretence for his staying in the Tower after the usual hour, and making use of the Earl’s order, if the marriage did not take place.

He saw that the wily politician had entangled him on all sides.  He saw that he had left him scarcely a possibility of escape.  He had either to commit an action which he felt would be dishonourable in the highest degree towards Laura, or to break the solemn pledge that he had made, and at the same time leave himself still under the imputation of dishonour; for he had nothing else to propose to Laura or her father but her instant marriage with himself, notwithstanding the circumstances of his birth, or the imminent risk of her father’s total ruin.

“She may think,” he said to himself, “and the Duke certainly will think, that I have never told this fact till the very last moment, when I have so entangled her that there was no receding.  Thus I shall violate my word to the Earl, which his baseness, perhaps, would justify me in doing, but shall yet derive scarcely any benefit either to the Duke, or Laura, or myself.”

It was all agony, and clasping his hands together once more, he remained gazing upon the ground in absolute despair.  Which way, he asked himself, could he turn for help or advice?  His mind rested for a moment on Lord Sunbury.  There were many strong reasons to believe that he was in London, but incognito; but as Wilton thus thought, he recollected his pledge not to mention either the plans the Earl had laid out, or the facts concerning his own birth which had been told him.  And again he was at sea, but the next moment came the thought of Lord Sherbrooke and