They were now both upon the battlement, at the eastern extremity.
“We are out of hearing,” said the maid, looking cautiously around; and gazing upon Anne, whispered with terror, “you are betrayed!—betrayed—and in the power of false hearts, but daring hands!”
“Never,” replied her mistress with energy, “who dares asperse his character and motives?—the stranger is true—”
“My young lady thinks of love,” returned her maid,—“but I refer not to a lover. Nay, blush not; I meant not, that falsehood, either to his king, or his lady-love, is in the heart of that young and handsome cavalier; no, he and his companions I could swear over my dead husband’s bible, are loyal and noble. But the new comer, whom Colonel Seaton admitted, is a traitor!—nay, start not, my fair mistress,—and Houghton Tower is now in the hands of Charles the First’s murderers!”
There was a fearful reality, thrilling in the voice of the attendant; so different from the gossiping tone, for which she was somewhat noted.
“Gracious heaven!” exclaimed her mistress, “and are we betrayed? I doubt the fidelity of Seaton. He had the countenance of an honest man until this day; but I now fear me, that his heart is deceitful and villainous. The stranger, too, seemed sullen; still, there was an expression of cunning. Yet why should we tremble? Let their heads grace the walls of Houghton Tower!—my father shall see it done.”
“Hush, hush, my lady,” replied her maid, “other heads than those of traitors may, ere long, grace the turrets. They are supported by the garrison. I learned as much from one of the sentinels, and a high admiration he expressed for the stranger, whom my husband, heaven rest his soul! would have addressed as an ungainly butcher, such is the villain’s appearance.”
Here she was interrupted:—she beheld two forms in the distance, approaching, and she whispered to her mistress, to screen themselves from view, behind the enormous engine posted on the battlements. Scarcely had they done so, before they heard steps near them, and instantly a dead pause was made. A stern voice now lowly broke upon the silence, and Anne recognized it to be that of the stranger, only it seemed more authoritative, even in its whispers. “Is all safe? Is every thing in readiness?”
“Yes,” was the short reply of his companion, Colonel Seaton; but it was given in an obsequious and reverential tone.
“But Derby, and his companions—”