He then recollected that the deputy-chamberlain had given him a master-key, advising him, in the present confused state of the Castle, to keep his door as much shut as possible.

He applied this key to the lock, the bolt revolved, he entered, and in the same instant saw a female form seated in the apartment, and recognized that form to be, Amy Robsart.

His first idea was that a heated imagination had raised the image on which it doted into visible existence; his second, that he beheld an apparition; the third and abiding conviction, that it was Amy herself, paler, indeed, and thinner, than in the days of heedless happiness, when she possessed the form and hue of a wood-nymph, with the beauty of a sylph--but still Amy, unequalled in loveliness by aught which had ever visited his eyes.
The astonishment of the Countess was scarce less than that of Tressilian, although it was of shorter duration, because she had heard from Wayland that he was in the Castle.

She had started up at his first entrance, and now stood facing him, the paleness of her cheeks having given way to a deep blush.
"Tressilian," she said, at length, "why come you here ?" "Nay, why come you here, Amy," returned Tressilian, "unless it be at length to claim that aid, which, as far as one man's heart and arm can extend, shall instantly be rendered to you ?" She was silent a moment, and then answered in a sorrowful rather than an angry tone, "I require no aid, Tressilian, and would rather be injured than benefited by any which your kindness can offer me.

Believe me, I am near one whom law and love oblige to protect me." "The villain, then, hath done you the poor justice which remained in his power," said Tressilian, "and I behold before me the wife of Varney!" "The wife of Varney!" she replied, with all the emphasis of scorn.