closed lid-and then his eye glared like that of the hooded snake, while he replied 66 Methought the lady in her chamber: the destined bride, during the day, keeps to her own apartment; 'tis the soft night that draws her forth to interchange love-pledges and soft sayings." "Villain!" exclaimed De Guerre with startling energy, "hold thy blaspheming tongue, nor dare to imagine, much less express, aught of this lady that is not pure as heaven's own firmament!" "Oh, my good sir," said the other, "I know you now! the braggart at my lady Cecil's funeral-the pall-bearerthe church-yard lounger-the 66 "Hold, coward!" interrupted the Cavalier, grinding the Lady, I entreat you to retire; words between his teeth. this is no scene for you:-Nay, but you must!" "Touch her not!" exclaimed Burrell, the brutality of his vile nature fully awakened at perceiving Walter attempt to take her hand; "Touch her not, though you are doubtless the youth to whom her heart is given." 66 Forbear, sir!" ejaculated Constance; "if you have the spirit of a man, forbear!" "Oh, then, your passion has not been declared by wordsyou have spoken by actions!" he retorted with redoubled acrimony. The reply to this gross insult was made by the point of De Gurere's sword resting on Burrell's breast. "Defend yourself, or die like a vile dog!" thundered the Cavalier, and Sir Willmott was obliged to stand on his defence. The feelings of the woman overcame those of the heroine, and Constance shrieked for help, when she beheld the combatants fairly engaged in a feud where the shedding of blood appeared inevitable. Her call was answered, but not by words; scarcely more than three or four thrusts had been made and returned, when a stout gentleman, clad in a dark and tight-fitting vest strode nearly between them, and clashed the tough blade of his broad basket-hilted sword upon their more graceful, but less substantial, weapons, so as to strike them to the earth. Thus, without speaking word or farther motion, he cast his eyes first on the one, then on the other, still holding their weapons under, more, however, by the power of his countenance, than of his arm. Put up your swords!" he said at length, in a low stern voice,- -"put up your swords!" he repeated; then seeing that though Burrell's rapier had leaped into its rest, De Guerre retained his unsheathed, "put up your sword, sir!” 66 he said again in a loud tone, that sounded awfully through the still twilight, and then stamped upon the ground with such force and energy, that a young oak, near which he stood, seemed to heave in the yielding earth: "the_air is damp, I say, and good steel should be kept from rust. Young men, keep your weapons in their scabbards, until God and your country call them forth, then draw according to the knowledge according to the faith that is in ye; but a truce to idle brawling." "I would first know who it is," demanded Walter, still in fierce anger, "who breaks in upon us and commands us thus?" "Have you so soon forgotten Major Wellmore young man!" replied the stranger in his harshest voice: "I little thought that he of the English graft upon a French stock would have carried such brawling into the house of my ancient friend. Sir Willmott Burrell, I lament that the fear of the Lord is not with you, or you would not use carnal weapons so indiscriminately; go to, and think what the Protector would say, did he find you thus employed." "But, sir," said De Guerre, no less over-awed by the imperative manner of Major Wellmore, "I, at least, care not for the Protector, nor am I to be baffled of my just revenge by any of his officers." 66 Wouldst fight with me, then?" inquired the Major, with much good temper, and placing himself between the opponents. "If it so pleasure you," replied the youth, abating not a jot of his determination; "when I have made this treacherous and false fellow apologize to the Lady Constance, and afterwards to me for his unproved and unprovoked words." During the parley, Constance had remained fixed and immoveable; but a new feeling now seemed to animate her, as she approached, and clinging to Major Wellmore's arm for support, spoke in an audible but tremulous voice. "Walter, I entreat, I command you to let this matter rest. I shall not debase myself by condescending to assert what Sir Willmott Burrell ought and does believe-that I came not here to meet you by any appointment. I say his heart tells him at this moment that such a proceeding would be one of which he knows I am incapable." "If any reflection has been made upon Mistress Cecil," observed Major Wellmore, "I will be the first to draw steel in her cause. Sir Willmott, explain this matter. Young sir," he continued, noting Walter's ire and impatience, "a soldier's honour is as dear to me as it can be to you." Burrell felt and appeared exceedingly perplexed; but with his most insinuating manner, and a tremulous voice, he replied: "Mistress Cecil will, I hope, allow for the excess of affection that gave rise to such needless jealousy. On consideration, I perceive at once that she would not, could not, act or think in any way unworthy of herself." He bowed profoundly, as he spoke, to Constantia, who clung still more closely to Major Wellmore's arm, and could hardly forbear uttering the contempt she felt; at every instant her truthful nature urged her to speak all she thought and knew, to set Burrell at defiance, and hold him up to the detestation he merited: but her father, and her father's crime! the dreadful thought sent back the blood that rushed so warmly from her heart in icy coldness to its seat; and the high-souled woman was compelled to receive the apology with a drooping head, and a spirit bowed almost to breaking by intense and increasing anguish. "And you are satisfied with this!" exclaimed the Cavalier, striding up to her; "you, Constance Cecil, are satisfied with this! But, by Him whose unquenchable stars are now shining in their pure glory over our heads, I am not!— Coward! coward! and liar! in your teeth, Sir William Burrell! as such I will proclaim you all through his majesty's dominions, by word of mouth and deed of sword!" "Walter, Walter!" exclaimed Constance, clasping her hands. "I crave your pardon, Lady," said Burrell, without altering his tone; "but do not thus alarm yourself: my sword shall not again be drawn upon a low and confirmed malignant. Sir," turning from his opponent and addressing the stranger, "heard you not how he applied the forbidden title of majesty to the man Charles Stuart; shall I not forthwith arrest him for high treason?-runneth not the act so, formed for the renouncing and disannulling of the pretended title of the late man's progeny?" "Perish such acts and their devisers!" shouted the Cavalier, losing all prudence in the excitement of the moment. "Let the Lady retire, while we end this quarrel as becomes men!" "Heed him not, heed him not, I implore, I entreat you!" exclaimed Constance, sinking to the earth at the feet of Major Wellmore, by whom the hint of Burrell was apparently unnoticed; "the lion takes not advantage of the deer caught in the hunter's toils, and he is distraught, I know he is!" "I am not distraught, Miss Cecil, though I have suffered enough to make me so: what care I for acts formed by a pack of regicides!" แ Young man," interrupted the old officer with a burst of fierce and strong passion that, like a mountain torrent, carried all before it, "I arrest you in the name of the Commonwealth and its Protector! A night in one of the lone chambers of Cecil Place will cool the bravo-blood that riots in your veins, and teach you prudence, if the Lord denies you grace." He laid his hand so heavily on De Guerre's shoulder, that his frame quailed beneath its weight, while the point of his sword rested on the peaceful grass. Burrell attempted, at the same instant, to steal the weapon from his hand: the Cavalier grasped it firmly; while Major Wellmore, darting on the false Knight a withering look, emphatically observed, and with a total change of manner "I can, methinks, make a good capture without your aid, kind sir; although I fully appreciate your zeal in the cause of the Commonwealth!" The latter part of the sentence was pronounced with a slow and ironical emphasis; then, turning to De Guerre, he added, "I need not say to you that, being under arrest, your sword remains with me." De Guerre presented it in silence; for the result of his interview with Constantia had rendered him indifferent to his fate, and, although but an hour before it would have been only with his life that his sword had been relinquished, he now cared not for the loss of either. Major Wellmore took the weapon, and appeared for a moment to consider whether he should retain it or not: he decided on the former, and in a cold, calm voice commanded his prisoner to move forward. De Guerre pointed to Constantia, who had neither shrieked nor fainted, but stood a mute statue of despair in the clear light of the young spring moon, whose early and resplendent beams fell in a silver shower on her bared and beautiful head. "I will take care of Mistress Cecil," said the insidious Burrell. As he spoke, Lady Frances, who, alarmed at the absence of her friend, had come forth to seek her, bounded into the Fairy Ring, and as suddenly screamed, and stood irresolute amid the dread circle. The major immediately spoke: 66 'Lady Frances, pray conduct your friend: Sir Willmott Burrell, we follow you to the nearest entrance." "And now," said Constantia, as her head. fell on the bosom of her friend, "he is in the lion's den-fully and for ever destroyed!" Nature was exhausted: it was long ere she again spoke. CHAPTER XVI. The doubt of future foes exiles my present joy, As threaten mine annoy; For falsehood now doth flow, and subject faith doth ebb, Wisdom weav'd the web. QUEEN ELIZABETH. WHILE the headstrong Cavalier was confined in "the strong room " of Cecil Place, he had ample leisure to reflect upon the consequences of his rashness, and to remember the caution he had received from Major Wellmore on the night of their first meeting-to be guarded in his expressions, where danger might arise from a single thoughtless word. He surveyed the apartment with a careless look, as if indifferent whether it were built of paper or of Portland stone, glanced upon the massive bars of the iron-framed windows, and scarcely observed that the walls were bare of tapestry, and that dampness and decay had mottled the plastering into a variety of hues and shades of colour. His lamp burned brightly on the table; the solitary but joyous light seemed out of place; he put it therefore aside, endeavouring to lessen its effect by placing it behind a huge worm-eaten chair. Thus, almost in darkness, with a mind ill at ease, brooding over the events of the day, which had perhaps perilled his life, although life had now become of little value, we leave him to his melancholy and self-reproachful thoughts, and hasten to the chamber of Constance Cecil. It has already appeared that an early and a close intimacy had subsisted between her and Walter De Guerre but we must leave it to Time, the great developer, to explain the circumstances under which it originated, as well as those by which it was broken off. Lady Frances Cromwell had left her friend in what she considered a sound slumber; and sought her dressing-room only to change her garments, so that she might sit with her during the remainder of the night. Barbara, however, had hardly taken the seat the lady had quitted, when her mistress half arose from the bed, and called her by name in so hollow a voice that the poor girl started, as if the sound came from a sepulchre. |