[CHAPTER XXVIII.]
Leaving the fugitives in that period of their flight with which the last chapter closes, I must, with the benevolent reader's good leave, return to personages whom I have left somewhat too long, and for whom I own a deep interest.
Annie Walton--sweet Annie Walton--stood, as the reader may recollect, conversing with her worthy aunt, Lady Margaret Langley, and had just announced that amongst the voices she heard below was one, the tones of which recalled a person who ought to have been over the sea long before. Now, it may be supposed, and, considering all things, not unnaturally, that she alluded thus vaguely to the Earl of Beverley. Such, however, was not the case; for the voice of Lord Beverley was rich and musical, while the sounds she heard were far from being particularly harmonious; and an oath or two, pronounced in a somewhat loud tone, and intermixed with laughter, were certainly not of the vocabulary which he was most accustomed to employ.
At the same time, the stag-hound which followed them along the passages pricked up his ears with a sharp growl, and took two or three quick steps in advance, as if to spring forward on the first occasion. Lady Margaret chid him back, however. "Who is it, child?" she asked. "Who do you fancy it is? I expect no one."
"I think the voice is that of a certain Captain Barecolt," replied Miss Walton; "not a very pleasing personage, dear aunt, but one who once did us very good service--a brave man and a good soldier, my brother says, but sadly given to gasconade."
"If he be a brave man and a good soldier, a loyal subject, and have done you and Charles good service, he shall be right welcome, Annie," replied the old lady; "and he may gasconade to the moon if he pleases. Down, sir! down! Will you show your white teeth when I forbid you? But what can they be about, Annie? Never did I hear such a bustle. Hark! there is Charles's voice as loud as the other. Come quickly! let us see."
"Quick! out with the horses!" tried the voice of Lord Walton below. "See them out like lightning. Lie there, Francis, for a moment. Call my aunt--call my sister! By heaven, they shall rue it! Which way did they seem to take?"
"They halted before the house," said a faint voice, which made Miss Walton's cheek turn pale; "flushed with their success, they may dare to attack it. Captain, I owe you my life."
"Nothing, nothing, my lord!" rejoined the voice of Barecolt. "But we must be quick, Lord Walton, or their courage may fail, and they may run away, taking her with them. Can I get any better arms? for we had nothing but our swords--'twas that which ruined us."
"There are plenty in the hall," exclaimed Lady Margaret Langley, who was now entering the room in which she had left her nephew. At the same moment, one of Lord Walton's servants appeared at the other door, saying, "The horses are ready, my lord. The people seem going up the lane."