“He looks abroad, and soon appears,
O'er Horncliffe-hill, a plump of spears,
Beneath a pennon gay.”
Marmion.
The sharp sounds of the supper-bell were ringing along the gallery, as Miss Plowden gained the gloomy passage; and she quickened her steps to join the ladies, in order that no further suspicions might be excited by her absence.—Alice Dunscombe was already proceeding to the dining parlor, as Katherine passed through the door of the drawing-room; but Miss Howard had loitered behind, and was met by her cousin alone.
“You have then been so daring as to venture, Katherine!” exclaimed Cecilia.
“I have,” returned the other, throwing herself into a chair, to recover her agitation—“I have, Cecilia; and I have met Barnstable, who will soon be in the abbey, and its master.”
The blood which had rushed to the face of Cecilia on first seeing her cousin now retreated to her heart, leaving every part of her fine countenance of the whiteness of her polished temples, as she said:
“And we are to have a night of blood!”
“We are to have a night of freedom, Miss Howard; freedom to you, and to me: to Andrew Merry, to Griffith and to his companion!”
“What freedom more than we now enjoy Katherine, is needed by two young women? Think you I can remain silent, and see my uncle betrayed before my eyes? his life perhaps endangered!”
“Your own life and person will not be held more sacred, Cecilia Howard, than that of your uncle. If you will condemn Griffith to a prison, and perhaps to a gibbet, betray Barnstable, as you have threatened—an opportunity will not be wanting at the supper-table, whither I shall lead the way, since the mistress of the house appears to forget her duty.”
Katherine arose, and with a firm step and proud eye she moved along the gallery to the room where their presence was expected by the rest of the family. Cecilia followed in silence, and the whole party immediately took their several places at the board.