The porter took the offered signet in silence, and only shook his head
in reply, as they passed together towards the house.
"You can tell me, I suppose, if Master Roland is still with his
Highness's army?"
"Alack and well-a-day! God is just and merciful; but, I take it, the
death of that noble boy has gone nigher to break my lady's heart than
any other sorrow: the flesh will war against the spirit. Had he died in
honourable combat at Marston or at Naseby, when first it was given him
to raise his arm in the Lord's cause!--but to fall in a drunken frolic,
not befitting a holy Christian to engage in--it was far more than my
poor lady could bear."
"Oliver promised to be a fine fellow."
"Do not talk of him, do not talk of him, I entreat you," replied the
domestic, placing his hand on his face to conceal his emotion; "he was,
indeed, my heart's darling. Long before Sir Robert succeeded to his
brother's property, and when we lived with my lady's father, I was the
old gentleman's huntsman, and that dear child was ever at my heels. The
Lord be praised! the Lord be praised! but I little thought the blue
waves would be his bier before he had seen his twentieth year. They are
all gone, sir: five such boys!--the girl, the lamb of the flock, only
left. You do not know her, do ye?" inquired the old man, peering with
much curiosity into the Skipper's face, as if recognising it as one he
had seen in former days.
The sailor made no answer.
They had now entered a small postern-door, which led to the hall by a
narrow passage; and the porter proceeded until they stood in one of
those vaulted entrances that usually convey an idea of the wealth and
power of the possessor.
"You can sit here till I return," observed the guide, again casting an
inquiring look upon the form and features of the guest.
"I sit in no man's hall," was the stern reply.
The porter withdrew, and the seaman, folding his arms, paced up and down
the paved vestibule, which showed evident tokens of the confusion that
sickness and death never fail to create. He paused occasionally before
the huge and gaping chimney, and extended his sinewy hands over the
flickering embers of the expiring fire: the lurid glare of the departing
flames only rendered the darkness of the farthermost portion of the hail
more deep and fearful. The clock chimed eleven: it was, as ever, the
voice of Time giving warning of eternity!