"This," Edmund went on, "is to be put in the baron's room."

"Yes, but how?" asked Manners, perceiving that some sort of a remark was expected of him.

"Cannot I, who have invented it, find some means for conveying the engine there?" replied the inventor, with staggering emphasis.

Manners deferentially bowed his acquiescence, much to the amus.e.m.e.nt of Sir Ronald.

"You must not heed his words," whispered the knight. "He is infatuated with his work. In all things else he is as timid as a mouse."

"And then," pursued the mighty alchemyst, "and then--! Nay, I will show thee, see!" and with some difficulty he forced open a little door at the side.

Both Manners and Sir Ronald moved forward to examine it, for the room was but faintly lighted and they could barely see the dim outline of the instrument.

"Go back, go back," screamed Edmund. "Ronald, I look for no treachery from thee."

"Tush," contemptuously replied the knight, as he poured some more oil into the lamp, "get on. We did but want to see."

"This," continued Edmund, unabashed, "is more dreadful than Roger Bacon's powder;" and pulling out a short, stout iron canister, he poured some crystals into a hole. "Look and behold," he added. "I invoke no saints, nor do I seek the aid of any deity, but see;" and rolling some of the crystals tightly up in some parchment, he dropped it into the midst of the fire.

For a few moments nothing was seen or heard of it, and the onlookers were smiling to each other when the wonderful crystals began to splutter and fizz, till the packet suddenly exploded with a loud report, rattling the bottles and jars together, while the rumbling report rolled up the long subterranean pa.s.sage.

"Ha!" exclaimed Edmund, triumphantly. "You shudder at the sight; that is nothing, I can do infinitely more than that. I will do it with more crystals now."

"Nay, we are convinced of thy prowess; when the fumes have cleared away, show us this engine," replied Manners. "It is full of wheels; show us their purpose."

"That shook this chamber," Edmund replied, "but this could well nigh shatter it."

"Great man, we acknowledge thy mighty genius," responded Sir Ronald.

"Reveal the limit of thy powers."

"I will," said Edmund, enthusiastically, "I will."

All his reserve was worn off now, and he expatiated at length upon the wonderful powers of his mighty engine. No such power had been known before; nothing would stand against it; it was indeed a miracle of force.

"But, prithee," asked Manners, heartily sick of the ceaseless explanations, and anxious to see the practical outcome of it all, "how worketh it? Show us, let it move this piece of rock."

"You doubt me; I will show it thee; I will test it but this once again, and then the baron, curse him! dies."

Edmund busied himself for some time in compounding some evil-smelling ingredients in a huge mortar, and, as he stirred the pestle round and round, the contents hissed and crackled, and emitted sparks of fire.

At length, after many bottles had been partially emptied, and many powders and the like had been employed, the mysterious substance was obtained, and he sprinkled a little of it upon the red embers, when a series of miniature explosions followed.

"Look, see!" he pa.s.sionately exclaimed, "I have discovered something still more powerful; nay, stand back. I found it once before, but lost the art. Now we shall see; hey, hey."

Slowly and cautiously the canister was replaced; the requisite powder was carefully measured and inserted, and after many an examination had been made, Edmund declared that everything was in readiness for the wheels to be set in motion.

"Stand back, venture not too near," he commanded, and placing a heavy piece of loose rock upon the case, he set the wheels in motion and stepped back proudly behind his handiwork.

"Thou shalt be convinced shortly, Master Manners," he exclaimed. "Ha, ha, I shall have many friends soon. None know the power I have at my command, and princes and queens will court me to possess it. I can either kill or keep alive, my elixir--"

His voice was lost in the din of a great explosion. Bottles and jars were rattled together and smashed. The chamber was full of smoke and flame. Everything was suddenly thrown into frightful disorder, all was in confusion. Solid ma.s.ses of rock were detached from the walls and roof, and went crashing across the room, destroying everything with which they came into contact, or else burst through the wall and bounded down the steep rock outside. The very room seemed to spin around, and Sir Ronald and Manners were thrown headlong upon the pavement of the pa.s.sage outside.

What could it all mean?

Simply that the engine had done its work. Edmund had overcharged it, and it had exploded. The angel of death had slain its creator, and the wonderful elixir of life was lost to the world for ever.

CHAPTER x.x.x.

STOLEN SWEETS.

All close they met again, before the dusk Had taken from the stars its pleasant veil; Close in a bower of hyacinth and musk, Unknown of any, from whispering tale.

Ah! better had it been for ever so, Than idle ears should pleasure in their woe.

KEATS.

It was within a week off Christmas, and at Haddon all was in confusion and disorder amid the preparations for the forthcoming wedding.

Manners had now relinquished all hope of Sir George ever relenting, and he waited with feverish impatience the time when, once more, he might clasp his darling to his heart, and pour again into her ears the oft-told story of his undiminished love.

He longed to see her again, or to be seen by her, even though no words were spoken; for he had been away awhile, and though he had bidden Roger send Dorothy word of his absence through Lettice, yet he feared lest the message had not been delivered, and she would feel alarmed at his being away.

Ill news awaited his return. Dorothy was to go away with Margaret, for she was ill, and Benedict had prescribed a change of air. He was desperate, and in his desperation he was prepared to hazard anything which promised the remotest chance of success; but alas! his ventures, while resulting harmlessly, brought him no nearer the goal of his ambition than he had been before.

"Roger," he said, "I shall get me to the Hall. Lettice should come soon; bid her hasten back and tell her mistress I am there awaiting her."

"Aye, I will tell her," replied the honest woodsman, "but methinks it is a sorry chance. Thou art far more likely to be discovered than to succeed, for there be many folks at the Hall, and few dare to be friends of thine."

"Nevertheless, I shall attempt it, good Roger; dissuade me not."

"Faith, not I. 'Tis not for such as me to interfere. Thou art brave, Master Manners, and art worthy of success; may it come to thee, say I.

But the Hall is full big to seek each other in; where shalt thou be?"

"In the dining-room."

"In the dining-room!" quoth Roger, in surprise. "The dining-room!

Thou'lt surely never look there? 'Tis as bare of hiding places as the flat of my hand. Why not in the archer's room, or the tower?"

"I shall hide me behind the arras till she comes," replied Manners.

"The arras," laughed his companion, "why it will bulge out like the monuments in Bakewell Church; the first who comes will spy thee out.

Take my advice, master, and wait in the tower. Why, the b.u.t.tery were safer than the dining-room."

"Tut, I shall go," he replied; "there is more to hide one than you wot of, but my Dorothy knows it, and I shall meet her there;" and picking up a bundle of wood he started off to the Hall.

He was not long upon the way, and when he arrived at his destination there was no difficulty in getting into the kitchens, for he had been there scores of times before, and his was quite a familiar figure now.