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STORY OF FITZALAN.
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head, while his eyes flaſhed with all the wildneſs of phrenzy. His minions looked firſt at their lord, and then at each other, with an expreſſion of ſurpriſe. In a few moments the baron recovered himſelf, and continued the diſcourſe. “Do not be alarmed, my friends,” ſaid he, “a violent pain ſhot through my head, but it is gone; and I am well again. I thank you both for your fidelity: here is the reward which I promiſed you. This is but a ſmall part of what you ſhall receive when my happineſs is confirmed. Now that the hated Fitzalan is in my power, it will be a matter of very little difficulty to effect the completion of my wiſhes. To-morrow night you will proceed to execute the plan which I unfolded to you. Be faithful! and reſt aſſured, that I will reward you beyond even the utmoſt extent of your hopes. Hugo! to your care I commit the man I deteſt. At preſent you may both retire.” They bowed and obeyed.

When he was ſomewhat recovered from his tempeſt of paſſion and agony, Fitzalan roſe from the ground, and with agitated ſteps paced his priſon, carefully examining every corner of it, in expectation of diſcovering ſome outlet that might afford him the hope of eſcape, though ever ſo diſtant. His ſearch was not in vain. A part of the wall, when ſtruck, returned a hollow ſound; this proved to be a ſmall door, which he ſuppoſed led to ſome other of the dungeon under the caſtle. His heart roſe on this diſcovery. With an eager hand he fought to find the bolts or locks, but without effect; it appeared to be faſtened on the other ſide, and the maſſineſs of the plates of iron with which it was defended, mocked every attempt to procure a paſſage by force. It was not, however, till he was entirely worn out by the violence of his exertions, that Fitzalan deſiſted from endeavouring to accompliſh his purpoſe. Baffled in all his efforts, and made more wretched by their failure, he threw himſelf on his damp and half-decayed heap of ſtraw. All was ſolemn ſilence; except when it was broken by the rattling of his chains, or when the caſtle-bell in deep and ſullen