"Well then," said Mr. Webster, "for a while Lawyer Blackburn talked with George in a low voice so's the warder at the door might not hear what passed, and I tried to compose my thoughts, so that I might, if time and opportunity favoured, say some word that he might take to his heart to solace him withal. And when Mr. Blackburn began to tie up his papers and bid him bear himself like a man, on the morrow, and hope for the best, I asked George it he would pray with me. He did not refuse; but sat upon a little block that served for his seat, and I fell upon my knees and the lights streamed upon my face from between the bars. Mr. Blackburn turned his back and affected to busy himself with his bag, and the warder jingled his keys, impatient to be gone. And then I prayed the good God and Father to send peace and comfort to our dear brother, that. He might be pleased that this great sorrow should pass and this black cloud be lifted; but throwing all upon the mercy and compassion of the Heart that feels for all, for all, even for the outcast and the sinful. For the love of that Heart passeth the love of man and of woman, else woe and still woe, aye even for the chosen ones of Israel." And Mr. Webster's voice broke into a sob, and he bowed his head upon his breast and would say no more, and more we did not seek to know. In the evening I strolled into the city, walking round that great Cathedral of the North, and marvelled at the piety that had raised so splendid a temple to the glory of God. Then my steps turned towards the Castle, and I gazed from afar at the gloomy keep, and wondered behind which of the barred windows so high and narrow, lay my helpless cousin, tossing, I doubted not, upon a sleepless pallet, his mind wracked with thoughts of the morrow and his pillow, perchance, haunted by the image of him whose blood, I could not but think, was upon his rash and impious hand. I wandered by the narrow streets that approach the Castle, streets abandoned to squalor and to vice, my feet turned ever toward that monster dungeon, drawn by I know not what silent fascination. But as I walked as in a dream, I was brought to a stand by a gruff voice: "Halt or I fire!" And peering into the dark, scarce lightened by the oil-lamps that swayed in the streets, I saw that a company of soldiers was drawn across the street, and a sergeant in command held his musket at my breast. "Have you business at the Castle and a pass?" he asked, and on my answering him nay he bid me begone. I turned sadly away, and when by chance I tried another street that led Castle-wards my fate was the same. So I turned my back upon the gloomy fortress and wended my way back to our lodgings. The city was filled with troops, and every avenue to the Castle strongly guarded; for a rescue was feared. Had they known the Luds as well as I they might have spared their pains.