"Peace, tempter, peace!" exclaimed the Cavalier, bursting as fearlessly
and as splendidly from his repose as the sun from behind a dark but yet
silent thunder-cloud. "You might have conquered," he continued in a more
subdued tone, "had not the knowledge of the love of Constantia Cecil
saved me, as it has often done. She would only loathe the man who could
change his principles from any motive but conviction. Enough,
sir--enough, sir! I know not who you really are; but this I know, I
would no more see her despoiled of her rectitude than of her chastity.
Had she been here, she would have acted as I have done:--no, she would
have acted better, for she would not have hesitated."
The veteran remained silent for a few moments after this burst of strong
and noble feeling; he then slowly and deliberately put on his hat, drew
the thick buff gloves over his muscular hands, resumed the cloak that
had fallen from his shoulder, and pointed to the door.
"Do you mean," inquired Walter, "that I am at liberty to depart?"
"You are to go with me; but you are still to consider yourself under
arrest."
"To go--whither?"
"You go with me. You might have been at liberty; but now--you go with
me. And, one word more. Walk gently if you value life, or what may be
dearer than life. I am not one to have my will disputed. You will learn
as much; but now, I say, walk gently. I wish not to disturb this giddy
household: they prate, like others of their sort, of people's doings,
and 'tis not meet to grant them opportunity."
"I am a man of desperate fortunes now," thought the young Cavalier, as
he followed his mysterious guide through some winding and to him unknown
passages of the mansion--"a man of desperate fortunes, and care not
where I go."
As they passed through the shrubbery, he saw distinctly the rays of a
lamp stream from Constantia's window. The light fell on a clump of early
roses that grew upon a flat and ancient wall, the vestige of some old
moat or turret. As they passed nearly at its base, Walter sprang up and
pulled one, then shrouded it within his bosom, as he thought, unobserved
by his stern warder; but it was not so--the veteran noted the little
act, and, noting, understood it. There was a time when he could feel and
not define; that time was past, and succeeded by the present, when he
could define, but hardly feel. In this instance, however, his memory did
him good service; and the remembrance of what his own course had been
came upon him with all the freshness of renewed boyhood, so that he
could have pressed his youthful and ardent antagonist to his bosom. This
sunbeam of the past was not to continue, for he opened a wicket-gate
leading into the park, and blew one note, not loud, but clear, upon a
whistle. In an instant, as if the grass had produced men, Walter found
himself in the midst of mounted soldiers. He looked around him in
amazement, and even touched the nearest horse, to be certain that it was
not a dream! There they stood, the moonbeams, broken by the
overshadowing trees, coming down in dappled spots upon the chargers and
their iron-looking riders: carved centaurs could not be more immovable.
True, Walter had been absorbed; yet was all this real! There was for
him, too, a stout steed, which he was twice desired to mount ere he
obeyed.