The middle of a paragraph had been reached, detailing with many blunders and exaggerations the closing scene of the battle, the flight of Monmouth from the field, and the direction which he was positively asserted to have taken, when the door was flung open at once, and Robert Woodhall entered, booted and spurred, and muddy from the road.
"News! news! my noble lord," he exclaimed, with a triumphant air.
"I have it here, boy," answered Lord Woodhall, rapping the paper with his finger.
"Ay, but better news than that, noble kinsman," said the young man, with a laugh; and then, keeping up a tone partly jesting, partly serious, he asked, "What did you promise me, my lord, if I put Ralph Woodhall, the murderer of your son, into the hands of justice?"
"Why," said Lord Woodhall, with a good deal of hesitation, "I promised I would give you Margaret, as your mother wishes; but I find she does not love you--can not love you, she says."
"Perhaps because she loves her brother's murderer," replied the young man, bitterly.
The old nobleman started as if a serpent had bit him, and exclaimed, "Robert, Robert, do not set my whole blood on fire at such a thought! Beware what you do, sir--beware what you insinuate! Is the man taken? is he in prison?"
"Oh no, he is not," replied Robert Woodhall, in a cool, indifferent tone; "I know where he is; I can put him in the hands of justice in eight-and-forty hours. In double that time he may escape, for he goes whither he will, and disports himself as a gentleman at large. But what is that to me, if Margaret loves him better than me--if your promise is to be unavailing, and your commands to be set at naught?"
The old man advanced sternly toward him, took his hand and wrung it hard, murmuring in a low, fierce, emphatic tone, "Robert, you shall have her! But put him in my power--but give him to the arm of the law, and you shall have her, with all my estates, at my death. I say not how soon she shall be yours; she must have time--I must have time; but she shall be yours, I pledge you my honor, and my conscience, and my soul. May God curse me and spare the murderer if I break my vow."
"That is all I can desire," answered Robert. "We will not hurry the fair lady; and I think, my dear lord, that I can soon contrive to clear her mind of any love for Master Ralph, if such a fancy has ever crossed it. There are certain tales down there, which, even without all that poor Henry knew--and told her, I believe--of this very honest, religious young man's fidelity to her, must soon banish from her heart every trace of affection toward him."