"Let him loose, fool!" replied Colonel Hotham, waving his hand, and the earl was removed in custody of the party, giving a significant glance to Falgate as he passed. The painter returned it, but said nothing; and Lord Beverley was led along to a small close room, with one high grated window, where the heavy iron-plated door was closed upon him, locked and barred. The earl seated himself on the only stool, rested his elbow on the table and his head upon his hand, while the struggle between strong resolution and painful anticipations went on in his mind for nearly half-an-hour. His was a heart not easily daunted--well fitted by high principles and a calm and equal temper to endure the rougher and more painful things of life, and to encounter the perils and disasters of a troublous epoch better than lighter and gayer characters and less thoughtful minds. Nevertheless, he could not but feel the bitter disappointment which but too frequently follows on the indulgence of bright and high hopes in this our earthly career. He almost blamed himself for the joyful dreams which he had suffered to rest in his imagination, while standing with sweet Annie Walton at the window of the house in Beverley; and his thoughts ran back from those dear moments into earlier days, recalling every bright spot in the past, thinking of enjoyments gone and pleasures fled away, with a deep and sad consciousness of the transitory nature of every earthly good. Memory is the true "Old Mortality" of the heart, wandering sadly through the scenes of the past, and refreshing the tombstones of joys gone for ever. As he thus sat, the light began to fade away and night to fall over the earth; but ere it was quite dark he heard footsteps without, and a voice speaking low to the guard at his door. The conversation ceased, but there was no noise of receding steps, and the earl thought, "They are watching how I bear it. They shall know nothing from that. I will sing;" and, folding his arms upon his chest, he raised his eyes to the faint spot of light that still appeared through the high window, and sang, to a plaintive air of the time, some lines composed towards the end of the preceding reign, perhaps by some victim to the coarse tyranny of James I. Life's brighter part has passed away; The dark remains behind: The autumn brown rests on the earth; Loud howls the wintry wind. But steadfast hope and faith sincere Shall still afford their light: While these remain, this mortal gloom Cannot be wholly night. The summer flowers that once were here Have faded from the eye; The merle has ceased to cheer the shade, The lark to wake the sky. Green leaves have fallen from the trees, Dark clouds are overhead; And withered things, beneath my feet, Rustle where'er I tread.