"It would be difficult for any one to get in through | sinew to men of every size, and that nature spun the these defences," said Julian, giving vent in words to his own feelings. "Few wish that," answered the surly groom, misconstruing what was passing in Peveril's mind; and let me tell you, master, folks will find it quite as difficult to get out." He retired, and night came on. The dwarf, who took upon himself for the day the whole duties of the apartment, trundled about the room, making a most important clutter as he extinguished their fire, and put aside various matters which had been in use in the course of the day, talking to himself all the while in a tone of no little consequence, occasionally grounded on the dexterity with which an old soldier could turn his hand to every thing; and at other times, on the wonder that a courtier of the first rank should condescend to turn his hand to any thing. Then came the repetition of his accustomed prayers; but his disposition to converse did not, as on the former occasion, revive after his devotions. On the contrary, long before Julian had closed an eye, the heavy breathing from Sir Geoffrey Hudson's pallet declared that the dwarf was already in the arms of Morpheus. Amid the total darkness of the apartment, and with a longing desire, and at the same time no small fear, for the recurrence of the mysterious address of the preceding evening, Julian lay long awake without his thoughts receiving any interruption, save when the clock told the passing hour from the neighbouring steeple of St. Sepulchre. At length he sunk into slumber; but had not slept, to his judgment, above an hour, when he was roused by the sound which his waking ear had so long expected in vain. "Can you sleep ?-Will you sleep?-Dare you sleep?" were the questions impressed on his ear, in the same clear, soft, and melodious voice, which had addressed him on the preceding night. Who is it asks me the question ?" answered Julian. "But be the questioner good or evil, I reply that I am a guiltless prisoner; and that innocence may wish and dare to sleep soundly." Ask no questions of me," said the voice; "neither attempt to discover who speaks to you; and be assured that folly alone can sleep, with fraud and danger before him." "Can you, who tell me of dangers, counsel me how to combat or how to avoid them?" said Julian. "My power is limited," said the voice; "yet something I can do, as a glow-worm can show a precipice. But you must confide in me.' "Confidence must beget confidence," answered Julian. "I cannot repose trust in I know not what or whom." Speak not so loud," replied the voice, sinking almost into a whisper. Last night you said my companion would not awake," said Julian. "To-night I warrant not that he shall sleep," said the voice. And as spoke, the hoarse, snatching, discordant tones of the dwarf were heard, demanding of Julian why he talked in his sleep-wherefore he did not rest himself, and let other people rest-and, finally, whether his visions of last night were returned upon him again? 46 Say yes," said the voice, in a whisper, so low, yet so distinct, that Julian almost doubted whether it was not an echo of his own thought,-"Say but yes-and I part to return no more!" stock out thinner or stronger, according to the extent of surface which they were to cover. Hence, the least creatures are oftentimes the strongest. Place a beetle under a tall candlestick, and the insect will move it by its efforts to get out; which is, in point of comparative strength, as if one of us should shake his Majesty's prison of Newgate by similar struggles. Cats also, and weasels, are creatures of greater exertion and endurance than dogs or sheep. And in general, you may remark, that little men dance better, and are more unwearied under exertion of every kind, than those to whom their own weight must necessarily be burdensome. I respect you, Master Peveril, because I am told you have killed one of those gigantic fellows, who go about swaggering as if their souls were taller than ours, because their noses are nearer to the clouds by a cubit or two. But do not value yourself on this, as any thing very unusual. I would have you to know it hath been always thus; and that, in the history of all ages, the clean, tight, dapper, little fellow, hath proved an overmatch for his bulky antagonist. I need only instance, out of holy writ, the celebrated downfall of Goliath, and of another lubbard, who had more fingers to his hand, and more inches to his stature, than ought to belong to an honest man, and who was slain by a nephew of good King David; and of many others whom I do not remember; nevertheless, they were all Philistines of gigantic stature. In the classics, also, you have Tydeus, and other tight, compact heroes, whose diminutive bodies were the abode of large minds. And indeed you may observe, in sacred as well as profane history, that your giants are ever heretics and blasphemers, robbers and oppressors, outragers of the female sex, and scoffers at regular authority. Such were Gog and Magog, whom our authentic chronicles vouch to have been slain near to Plymouth, by the good little Knight Corineus, who gave name to Cornwall. Ascaparte also was subdued by Bevis, and Colbrand by Guy, as Southampton and Warwick can testify. Like unto these was the giant Hoel, slain in Bretagne by King Arthur. And if Ryence, King of North Wales, who was done to death by the same worthy champion of Christendom, be not actually termed a giant, it is plain he was little better, since he required twenty-four kings' beards, which were then worn full and long, to fur his gown; whereby, computing each beard at eighteen inches, (and you cannot allow less for a beard-royal,) and supposing only the front of the gown trimmed therewith, as we use ermine; and that the back was mounted and lined, instead of cat-skins and squirrels' fur, with the beards of earls and dukes, and other inferior dignitaries-may amount to— -But I will work the question to-morrow." Nothing is more soporific to any (save a philosopher or moneyed man) than the operation of figures; and when in bed, the effect is irresistible. Sir Geoffrey fell asleep in the act of calculating King Ryence's height, from the supposed length of his mantle. Indeed, had he not stumbled on this abstruse subject of calculation, there is no guessing how long he might have held forth upon the superiority of men of little stature, which was so great a favourite with him, that numerous as such narratives are, the dwarf had collected almost all the instances of their victories over giants, which history or romance afforded. No sooner had unequivocal signs of the dwarf's sound slumbers reached Julian's ears, than he began In desperate circumstances men look to strange again to listen eagerly for the renewal of that mysteand unusual remedies; and although unable to cal-nous communication which was at once interesting culate the chances of advantage which this singular communication opened to him, Julian did not feel inclined to let them at once escape from him. He answered the dwarf, that he had been troubled by an alarming dream. 66 "I could have sworn it, from the sound of your voice," said Hudson. It is strange, now, that you overgrown men never possess the extreme firmness of nerves proper to us who are cast in a more compact mould. My own voice retains its masculine sounds on all occasions. Dr. Cockerel was of opinion, that there was the same allowance of nerve and and awful. Even whilst Hudson was speaking, he had, instead of bestowing his attention upon his eulogy on persons of low stature, kept his ears on watchful guard, to mark, if possible, the lightest sounds of any sort which might occur in the apartment; so that he thought it scarce possible that even a fly should have left it without its motion being overheard. If, therefore, his invisible monitor was indeed a creature of this world-an opinion which Julian's sound sense rendered him unwilling to renounce that being could not have left the apartment; and he waited impatiently for a renewal of their communication. He was disappointed; not the slightest sound reached | shield invulnerable to protect him. He is innohis ear; and the nocturnal visiter, if still in the room, appeared determined on silence. It was in vain that Peveril coughed, hemmed, and gave other symptoms of being awake; at length, such became his impatience, that he resolved, at any risk, to speak first, in hopes of renewing the communication betwixt them. "Whoever thou art," he said, in a voice loud enough to be heard by a waking person, but not so high as to disturb his sleeping companion-"Whoever, or whatever thou art, that hast shown some interest in the fate of such a castaway as Julian Peveril, speak once more, I conjure thee; and be your communication for good or evil, believe me, I am equally prepared to abide the issue." No answer of any kind was returned to this invocation; nor did the least sound intimate the presence of the being to whom it was so solemnly addressed. "I speak in vain," said Julian; "and perhaps I am but invoking that which is insensible of human feeling, or which takes a malign pleasure in human suffering." There was a gentle and half-broken sigh from a corner of the apartment, which, answering to this exclamation, seemed to contradict the imputation which it conveyed. Julian, naturally courageous, and familiarized by this time to his situation, raised himself in bed, and stretched out his arm, to repeat his adjuration, when the voice, as if alarmed at his action and energy, whispered, in a tone more hurried than that which it had hitherto used, "Be still-move not-or I am mute for ever!" "It is then a mortal being who is present with me," was the natural inference of Juliaa, "and one who is probably afraid of being detected; I have then some power over my visiter, though I must be cautious how use it.-If your intents are friendly," he proceeded, "there was never a time in which I lacked friends more, or would be more grateful for kindness. The fate of all who are dear to me is weighed in the balance, and with worlds would I buy the tidings of their safety." "I have said my power is limited," replied the voice. "You I may be able to preserve-the fate of your friends is beyond my control." "Let me at least know it," said Julian; "and, be it as it may, I will not shun to share it." For whom would you inquire?" said the soft, sweet voice, not without a tremulousness of accent, as if the question was put with diffident reluctance. cent." "Let him plead his innocence at the bar of Heaven," said the voice; "it will serve him little where Scroggs presides." "Still I fear not," said Julian, counterfeiting more confidence than he really possessed; "my father's cause will be pleaded before twelve Englishmen." "Better before twelve wild beasts," answered the Invisible, "than before Englishmen, influenced with party prejudice, passion, and the epidemic terror of an imaginary danger. They are bold in guilt in proportion to the number amongst whom the crime is divided." "Ill-omened speaker," said Julian, "thine is indeed a voice fitted only to sound with the midnight bell, and the screech-owl. Yet speak again. Tell me, if thou canst"-(he would have said of Alice Bridgenorth, but the word would not leave his tongue)"Tell me," he said, "if the noble house of Derby" "Let them keep their rock like the sea-fowl in the tempest; and it may so fall out," answered the voice, "that their rock may be a safe refuge. But there is blood on their ermine; and revenge has dogged them for many a year, like a blood-hound that hath been distanced in the morning chase, but may yet grapple the quarry ere the sun shall set. At present, however, they are safe.-Am I now to speak farther on your own affairs, which involve little short of your life and honour? or are there yet any whose interests you prefer to your own?" "There is," said Julian, "one from whom I was violently parted yesterday; if I knew but of her safety, I were little anxious for my own.' "One!" returned the voice, "only one from whom you were parted yesterday?" But in parting from whom," said Julian, "I felt separated from all happiness which the world can give me." "You mean Alice Bridgenorth," said the invisible, with some bitterness of accent; "but her you will never see more. Your own life and hers depend on your forgetting each other." "I cannot purchase my own life at that price," replied Julian. "Then DIE in your obstinacy," returned the Invisible; nor to all the entreaties which he used was he able to obtain another word in the course of that remarkable night. CHAPTER XXXVI. A short-hough'd man, but full of pride. "My parents," said Julian, after a moment's hesitation; "how fare they?-What will be their fate?" ALLAN RAMSAY. "They fare as the fort under which the enemy has THE blood of Julian Peveril was so much fevered dug a deadly mine. The work may have cost the la-by the state in which his invisible visiter left him, that bour of years, such were the impediments to the engi- he was unable, for a length of time, to find repose. neers; but Time brings opportunity upon its wings." He swore to himself, that he would discover and "And what will be the event?" said Peveril. expose the nocturnal demon which stole on his hours "Can I read the future," answered the voice, "save of rest, only to add gall to bitterness, and to pour by comparison with the past?-Who has been hunted poison into those wounds which already smarted so on these stern and unmitigable accusations, but has severely. There was nothing which his power exbeen at last brought to bay? Did high and noble tended to, that, in his rage, he did not threaten. He birth, honoured age, and approved benevolence, save proposed a closer and more rigorous survey of his the unfortunate Lord Stafford? Did learning, capa-cell, so that he might discover the mode by which his city of intrigue, or high Court favour, redeem Cole- tormenter entered, were it as unnoticeable as an man, although the confidential servant of the heir auger-hole. If his diligence should prove unavailing presumptive of the Crown of England?-Did subtilty he determined to inform the jailers, to whom it could and genius, and the exertions of a numerous sect, not be indifferent to know, that their prison was open save Fenwicke, or Whitbread, or any other of the to such intrusions. He proposed to himself, to disaccused priests?-Were Groves, Pickering, or the cover from their looks, whether they were already other humble wretches who have suffered, safe in privy to these visits; and if so, to denounce them to their obscurity?-There is no condition in life, no the magistrates, to the judges, to the House of Comdegree of talent, no form of principle, which affords mons, was the least that his resentment proposed. protection against an accusation, which levels condi- Sleep surprised his worn-out frame in the midst of his tions, confounds characters, renders men's virtues projects of discovery and vengeance, and, as fretheir sins, and rates them as dangerous in proportion quently happens, the light of the ensuing day proved as they have influence, though attained in the noblest favourable to calmer resolutions. manner, and used for the best purposes. Call such a one but an accessory to the Plot-let him be mouthed in the evidence of Oates or Dugdale--and the blindest shall foresee the issue of their trial." "Prophet of Evil!" said Julian, "my father has a He now reflected that he had no ground to consider the motives of his visiter as positively malevolent, although he had afforded him little encouragement to hope for assistance on the points he had most at heart. Towards himself, there had been expressed a decided feeling, both of sympathy and interest; if | ring his observation, or awaking his curiosity, Julian through means of these he could acquire his liberty, had the opportunity to read as follows:he might, when possessed of freedom, turn it to the benefit of those for whom he was more interested than for his own welfare. "I have behaved like a fool," he said; "I ought to have temporized with this singular being, learned the motives of its interference, and availed myself of its succour, provided I could do so without any dishonourable conditions. It would have been always time enough to reject such when they should have been proposed to me." So saying, he was forming projects for regulating his intercourse with the stranger more prudently, in case their communication should be renewed, when his meditations were interrupted by the peremptory summons of Sir Geoffrey Hudson, that he would, in his turn, be pleased to perform those domestic duties of their common habitation, which the dwarf had yesterday taken upon himself. "Rash and infatuated as you are, there is one who would forfeit much to stand betwixt you and your fate. You are to-morrow to be removed to the Tower, where your life cannot be assured for a single day; for, during the few hours you have been in London, you have provoked a resentment which is not easily slaked. There is but one chance for you,-renounce A. B.-think no more of her. If that be impossible, think of her but as one whom you can never see again. If your heart can resolve to give up an attachment which it should never have entertained, and which it would be madness to cherish longer, make your acquiesence in this condition known by putting on your hat a white band, or white feather, or knot of riband of the same colour, whichever you may most easily come by. A boat will, in that case, run, There was no resisting a request so reasonable, and as if by accident, on board of that which is to convey Peveril accordingly rose and betook himself to the you to the Tower. Do you in the confusion jump arrangement of their prison, while Sir Hudson, overboard, and swim to the Southwark side of the perched upon a stool from which his legs did not by Thames. Friends will attend there to secure your half way reach the ground, sat in a posture of elegant escape, and you will find yourself with one who will languor, twangling upon an old broken-winded rather lose character and life, than that a hair of guitar, and singing songs in Spanish, Moorish, and your head should fall to the ground; but who, if you Lingua Franca, most detestably out of tune. He reject the warning, can only think of you as of the failed not, at the conclusion of each ditty, to favour fool who perishes in his folly. May Heaven guide Julian with some account of what he had sung, either you to a sound judgment of your condition! So prays in the way of translation, or historical anecdote, or one who would be your friend, if you pleased, as the lay was connected with some peculiar part of UNKNOWN." his own eventful history, in the course of which the poor little man had chanced to have been taken by a Sallee rover, and carried captive into Morocco. The Tower!-it was a word of terror, even more so than a civil prison; for how many passages to death This part of his life Hudson used to make the era did that dark structure present! The severe execuof many strange adventures; and, if he could him- tions which it had witnessed in preceding reigns, self be believed, he had made wild work among the were not perhaps more numerous than the secret muraffections of the Emperor's seraglio. But, although ders which had taken place within its walls; yet Pefew were in a situation to cross-examine him on gal- veril did not a moment hesitate on the part which he lantries and intrigues of which the scene was so had to perform. "I will share my father's fate," he remote, the officers of the garrison of Tangier had a said; "I thought but of him when they brought me report current amongst them, that the only use to hither; I will think of nothing else when they convey which the tyrannical Moors could convert a slave of me to yonder sull more dreadful place of confinement; : such slender corporeal strength, was to employ him it is his, and it is but meet that it should be his son's. to lie a-bed all day, and hatch turkey's eggs. The-And thou, Alice Bridgenorth, the day that I renounce least allusion to this rumour used to drive him well- thee, may I be held alike a traitor and a dastard!nigh frantic, and the fatal termination of his duel Go, false adviser, and share the fate of seducers and with young Crofts, which began in wanton mirth, heretical teachers!" and ended in bloodshed, made men more coy than they had formerly been, of making the fiery little hero the subject of their raillery. While Peveril did the drudgery of the apartment, the dwarf remained much at his ease, carolling in the manner we have described; but when he beheld Julian attempting the task of the cook, Sir Geoffrey Hudson sprung from the stool on which he sat en Signor, at the risk of breaking both his guitar and his neck, exclaiming, "That he would rather prepare breakfast every morning betwixt this and the day of judgment, than commit a task of such consequence to an inexperienced bungler like his companion." The young man gladly resigned his task to the splenetic little Knight, and only smiled at his resentment when he added, that, to be but a mortal of middle stature, Julian was as stupid as a giant. Leaving the dwarf to prepare the meal after his own pleasure, Peveril employed himself in measuring the room with his eyes on every side, and in endeavouring to discover some private entrance, such as might admit his midnight visitant, and perhaps could be employed in case of need for effecting his own escape. The floor next engaged a scrutiny equally minute, but more successful. Close by his own pallet, and dropped in such a manner that he must have seen it sooner but for the hurry with which he obeyed the summons of the impatient dwarf, lay a slip of paper, sealed, and directed with the initial letters J, P., which seemed to ascertain that it was addressed to himself. He took the opportunity of opening it while the soup was in the very moment of projection, and the full attention of his companion was occupied by what he, in common with wiser and taller men, considered as one of the principal occupations of life; so that, without incur He could not help uttering this last expression aloud, as he threw the billet into the fire, with a vehemence which made the dwarf start with surprise. "What say you of burning heretics, young man ?" he exclaimed;"by my faith, your zeal must be warmer than mine, if you talk on such a subject when the heretics are the prevailing number. May I measure six feet without my shoes, but the heretics would have the best of it if we came to that work. Beware of such words." "Too late to beware of words spoken and heard," said the turnkey, who, opening the door with unusual precautions to avoid noise, had stolen unperceived into the room; "however, Master Peveril has behaved like a gentleman, and I am no talebearer, on condition he will consider I have had trouble in his matters." Julian had no alternative but to take the fellow's hint and administer a bribe, with which Master Clink was so well satisfied, that he exclaimed, "It went to his heart to take leave of such a kind-natured gentleman, and that he could have turned the key on him for twenty years with pleasure. But the best friends must part." "I am to be removed, then ?" said Julian. 'Ay, truly, master, the warrant is come from the Council." " "To convey me to the Tower?" "Whew!" exclaimed the officer of the law-" who the devil told you that? But since you do know it, there is no harm to say ay. So make yourself ready to move immediately; and first, hold out your dewbeaters till I take off the darbies." "Is that usual?" said Peveril, stretching out his feet as the fellow directed, while his fetters were unlocked. "Why, ay, master, these fetters belong to the keeper; they are not a-going to send them to the Lieutenant, case' I trow. No, no, the warders must bring their own [ over-tenderness of my own heart. There is a cirgear with them; they get none here, I promise them. cumstance, good Master Julian Peveril, which should Nevertheless, if your honour hath a fancy to go in have been yours, had Providence permitted our farther fetters, as thinking it may move compassion of your intimacy, but it fits not the present hour. Go, then, my friend, and bear witness in life and death, that Geoffrey Hudson scorns the insults and persecutions of fortune, as he would despise, and has often despised, the mischievous pranks of an overgrown schoolboy." "I have no intention to make my case seem worse than it is," said Julian, whilst at the same time it crossed his mind that his anonymous correspondent must be well acquainted both with his own personal habits, since the letter proposed a plan of escape which could only be executed by a bold swimmer, and with the fashions of the prison, since it was foreseen that he would not be ironed on his passage to the Tower. The turnkey's next speech made him carry conjecture still farther. So saying, he turned away, and hid his face with his little handkerchief, while Julian felt towards him that tragi-comic sensation which makes us pity the object which excites it, not the less that we are some what inclined to laugh amid our sympathy. The jailer made him a signal, which Peveril obeyed, leav"There is nothing in life I would not do for so braveing the dwarf to disconsolate solitude. a guest," said Clink; "I could nab one of my wife's ribands for you, if your honour had the fancy to mount the white flag in your beaver." "To what good purpose?" said Julian, shortly, connecting as was natural, the man's proposed civility with the advice given and the signal prescribed in the letter. "Nay, to no good purpose I know of," said the turnkey; "only it is the fashion to seem white and harmless-a sort of token of not guiltiness, as I may say, which folks desire to show the world whether they be truly guilty or not; but I cannot say that guiltiness or not guiltiness argufies much, saving they be words in the vardict." Strange," thought Peveril, although the man seemed to speak quite naturally, and without any double meaning, "strange that all should apparently combine to realize the plan of escape, could I but give my consent to it! And had I not better consent? Whoever does so much for me must wish me well, and a well-wisher would never enforce the unjust conditions on which I am required to consent to my liberation." But this misgiving of his resolution was but for a moment. He speedily recollected, that whoever aided him in escaping, must be necessarily exposed to great risk, and had a right to name the stipulation on which he was willing to incur it. He also recollected that falsehood is equally base, whether expressed in words or in dumb show; and that he should lie as flatly by using the signal agreed upon in evidence of his renouncing Alice Bridgenorth, as he would in direct terms if he made such renunciation without the purpose of abiding by it. As Julian followed the keeper through the various windings of this penal labyrinth, the man observed, that "he was a rum fellow, that little Sir Geoffrey and, for gallantry, a perfect Cock of Bantam, for as old as he was. There was a certain gay wench," he said, "that had hooked him; but what she could make of him, save she carried him to Smithfield, and took money for him, as for a motion of puppets, it was,' he said, "hard to gather." Encouraged by this opening, Julian asked if his attendant knew why his prison was changed. "To teach you to become a King's post without commission," answered the fellow. He stopped in his tattle as they approached that formidable central point, in which lay couched on his leathern elbow-chair the fat commander of the fortress, stationed apparently for ever in the midst of his citadel, as the huge Boa is sometimes said to lie stretched as a guard upon the subterranean treasures of Eastern Rajahs. This overgrown man of authority eyed Julian wistfully and sullenly, as the miser the guinea which he must part with, or the hungry mastiff the food which is carried to another kennel. He growled to himself as he turned the leaves of his ominous register, in order to make the necessary entry respecting the removal of his prisoner. "To the Tower-to the Tower-ay, ay, all must to the Tower-that's the fashion of it-free Britons to a military prison, as if we had neither bolts nor chains here!-I hope Parliament will have it up, this Towering work, that's all.-Well, the youngster will take no good by the change, and that is one comfort." Having finished at once his official act of regis"If you would oblige me," he said to the turnkey, tration, and his soliloquy, he made a signal to his "let me have a piece of black silk crape for the pur-assistants to remove Julian, who was led along the pose you mention." "Of crape," said the fellow; "what should that signify? Why, the bien morts, who bing out to tour at you, will think you a chimney-sweeper on Mayday. "It will show my settled sorrow," said Julian, "as well as my determined resolution." 46 As you will, sir," answered the fellow; "I'll provide you with a black rag of some kind or other. So, now, let us be moving.' Julian intimated his readiness to attend him, and proceeded to bid farewell to his late companion, the stout Geoffrey Hudson. The parting was not without emotion on both sides, more particularly on that of the poor little man, who had taken a particular liking to the companion of whom he was now about to be deprived. Fare ye well," he said, "my young friend," taking Julian's hand in both his own uplifted palms, in which action he somewhat resembled the attitude of a sailor pulling a rope overhead,-"Many in my situation would think himself wronged, as a soldier and servant of the King's chamber, in seeing you removed to a more honourable prison than that which I am limited unto. But, I thank God, I grudge you not the Tower, nor the Rocks of Scilly, nor even Carisbrooke Castle, though the latter was graced with the captivity of my blessed and martyred master. Go where you will, I wish you all the distinction of an honourable prison-house, and a safe and speedy deliverance in God's own time. For myself, my race is near a close, and that because I fall a martyr to the The smart girls, who turn out to look at you. VOL. IV 2 J same stern passages which he had traversed upon his entrance, to the gate of the prison, whence a coach, escorted by two officers of justice, conveyed him to the waterside. A boat here waited him, with four warders of the Tower, to whose custody he was formally resigned by his late attendants. Clink, however, the turnkey, with whom he was more especially acquainted, did not take leave of him without furnishing him with the piece of black crape which he requested. Peveril fixed it on his hat amid the whispers of his new guardians. "The gentleman is in a hurry to go into mourning," said one; "mayhap he had better wait till he has cause.' "Perhaps others may wear mourning for him, ere he can mourn for any one," answered another of these functionaries. Yet, notwithstanding the tenor of these whispers, their behaviour to their prisoner was more respectful than he had experienced from his former keepers, and might be termed a sullen civility. The ordinary officers of the law were in general rude, as having to do with felons of every description; whereas these men were only employed with persons accused of state crimes-men who were from birth and circumstances usually entitled to expect, and able to reward, decent usage. The change of keepers passed unnoticed by Julian, as did the gay and busy scene presented by the broad and beautiful river on which he was now launched. A hundred boats shot past them, bearing parties intent on business, or on pleasure. Julian only viewed them with the stern hope, that whoever had endeavoured to | asking questions will do you no service. In this place bribe him from his fidelity by the hope of freedom, we know nothing of fathers and sons.' might see, from the colour of the badge which he had assumed, how determined he was to resist the temptation presented to him. It was about high water, and a stout wherry came up the river, with sail and oar, so directly upon that in which Julian was embarked, that it seemed as if likely to run her aboard. "Get your carabines ready," cried the principal warder to his assistants. "What the devil can these scoundrels mean?" But the crew in the other boat seemed to have perceived their error, for they suddenly altered their course, and struck off into the middle stream, while a torrent of mutual abuse was exchanged betwixt them and the boat whose course they had threatened to impede. "The Unknown has kept his faith," said Julian to himself; "I too have kept mine." It even seemed to him, as the boats neared each other, that he heard from the other wherry, something like a stifled scream or groan; and when the momentary bustle was over, he asked the warder who sat next him, what boat that was. "Men-of-war's men on a frolic, I suppose," answered the warder. "I know no one else would be so impudent as run foul of the King's boat; for I am sure the fellow put the helm up on purpose. But mayhap you, sir, know more of the matter than I do." This insinuation effectually prevented Julian from putting farther questions, and he remained silent until the boat came under the dusky bastions of the Tower. The tide carried them up under a dark and lowering arch, closed at the upper end by the well-known Traitor's gate, formed like a wicket of huge intersecting bars of wood, through which might be seen a dim and imperfect view of soldiers and warders upon duty, and of the steep ascending causeway which leads up from the river into the interior of the fortress. By this gate, and it is the well-known circumstance which assigned its name, those accused of state crimes were usually committed to the Tower. The Thames afforded a secret and silent mode of conveyance for transporting thither such whose fallen fortunes might move the commiseration, or whose popular qualities might excite the sympathy, of the public; and even where no cause for especial secrecy existed, the peace of the city was undisturbed by the tumult attending the passage of the prisoner and his guards through the most frequented streets. Yet this custom, however recommended by state policy, must have often struck chill upon the heart of the criminal, who thus, stolen, as it were, out of society, reached the place of his confinement, without encountering even one glance of compassion on the road; and as, from under the dusky arch, he landed on those flinty steps, worn by many a footstep anxious as his own, against which the tide lapped fitfully with small successive waves, and thence looked forward to the steep ascent into a Gothic state-prison, and backward to such part of the river as the low-brow'd vault suffered to become visible, he must often have felt that he was leaving daylight, hope, and life itself, behind him. While the warder's challenge was made and answered, Peveril endeavoured to obtain information from his conductors where he was likely to be confined; but the answer was brief and general-"Where the Lieutenant should direct.' "Could he not be permitted to share the imprisonment of his father, Sir Geoffrey Peveril ?" He forgot not, on this occasion, to add the surname of his house. The warder, an old man of respectable appearance, stared, as if at the extravagance of the demand, and said bluntly, "It is impossible." At least," said Peveril, "show me where my father is confined, that I may look upon the walls which separate us.' Yet chance seemed, in a few minutes afterwards, to offer Peveril that satisfaction which the rigour of his keepers was disposed to deny to him. As he was conveyed up the steep passage which leads under what is called the Wakefield Tower, a female voice, in a tone wherein grief and joy were indescribably mixed, exclaimed, "My son!-My dear son!" Even those who guarded Julian seemed softened by a tone of such acute feeling. They slackened their pace. They almost paused to permit him to look up towards the casement from which the sounds of maternal agony proceeded; but the aperture was so narrow, and so closely grated, that nothing was visible save a white female hand, which grasped one of those rusty barricadoes, as if for supporting the person within, while another streamed a white handkerchief, and then let it fall. The casement was instantly deserted. "Give it me," said Julian to the officer who lifted the handkerchief; "it is perhaps a mother's last gift.” The old warder lifted the napkin, and looked at it with the jealous minuteness of one who is accustomed to detect secret correspondence in the most trifting acts of intercourse. "There may be writing on it with invisible ink," said one of his comrades. "It is wetted, but I think it is only with tears," answered the senior. "I cannot keep it from the poor young gentleman." "Ah, Master Coleby," said his comrade, in a gentle tone of reproach, "you would have been wearing a better coat than a yeoman's to-day, had it not been for your tender heart." 64 It signifies little," said old Coleby, "while my heart is true to my King, what I feel in discharging my duty, or what coat keeps my old bosom from the cold weather." Peveril, mean while, folded in his breast the token of his mother's affection which chance had favoured him with; and when placed in the small and solitary chamber which he was told to consider as his own during his residence in the Tower, he was soothed even to weeping by this triffing circumstance, which he could not help considering as an omen, that his unfortunate house was not entirely deserted by Providence. But the thoughts and occurrences of a prison are too uniform for a narrative, and we must now convey our readers into a more bustling scene. CHAPTER XXXVII Henceforth 'tis done-Fortune and I are friends; And I must live, for Buckingham commends.-POFE THE Spacious mansion of the Duke of Buckingham, with the demesne belonging to it, originally bore the name of York House, and occupied a large portion of the ground adjacent to the Savoy. This had been laid out by the munificence of his father, the favourite of Charles the First, in a most splendid manner, so as almost to rival Whitehall itself. But during the increasing rage for building new streets, and the creating of almost an additional town, in order to connect London and Westminster, this ground had become of very great value; and the second Duke of Buckingham, who was at once fond of scheming, and needy of money, had agreed to a plan laid before him by some adventurous architect, for converting the extensive grounds round his palace into those streets, lanes, and courts, which still perpetuate his name and titles; though those who live in Buckingham Street, Duke Street, Villiers' Street, or in Of-alley, (for even that connecting particle is locally commemorated,) probably think seldom of the memory of the witty, eccentric, and licentious George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham, whose titles are preserved in the names of their residence and its neighbourhood. This building-plan the Duke had entered upon with all the eagerness which he usually attached to novelty. |