At one o'clock, the gates at the end of the vast and antique building were thrown open, and the lords entered walking two and two. Then followed the Garter King at arms, and other officers of the crown, in their robes of state. Then the masters in chancery. The Lord Chancellor Cowper, Lord High Steward on the occasion, walked alone, his train being borne by his attendants to the wool-pack, on which he seated himself. The peers then uncovered themselves; and they, as well as all others present, stood uncovered during the time occupied by the reading of the commission. All listened in breathless silence. The moment was awful in itself; but the accompaniments of solemnity and state rendered it, if possible, more so. When the commission was gone through, the serjeant-at-arms cried with a loud voice, "God save the king!" These words excited an undefinable sensation in the bosom of Lady Nithsdale. She felt in good sooth that he, in whom resided the power to call together and to control the imposing assemblage before her, was monarch of the realm. She felt that he, for whose sake they were placed in their present desperate situation, had proved himself little worthy of their devotion;--yet the words grated harshly on her ear,--her heart still refused to acknowledge them. The herald, and gentleman usher of the black rod, after making three reverences, kneeling, presented the white staff to his grace, who, attended by the herald, black rod, and the seal-bearer, made his proper reverences to the throne, and removed from the wool-pack to an arm-chair which was placed on the uppermost step but one of the throne, when, seating himself, he delivered the staff to the gentleman usher of the black rod, who stood on his right hand, while the seal-bearer held the purse, standing on the left. After a proclamation enjoining silence under pain of imprisonment, the serjeant-at-arms proceeded: "Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Lieutenant of the Tower of London, bring forth your prisoners to the bar, according to the order of the House of Lords to you directed." Each of these words fell, as it were, actually, palpably, knocking upon Lady Nithsdale's heart. For a moment she wondered how she could have willingly placed herself in her present situation; but she remembered the strong motives she had to try her powers of self-command, and she also remembered her promise to Mrs. Morgan, and she subdued the rising tumult of her soul. Her companions, also breathless with anxiety, stole a fearful glance towards her as the prisoners were brought to the bar by the deputy governor of the Tower. When the axe, which was brought before them by the gentleman jailer, first made its appearance, they saw Lady Nithsdale for a moment close her eyes, as if unable to endure the sight; but she recovered herself, and when her lord himself made his appearance, her looks were so intently fixed upon him, that it may be questioned whether her powers of vision took in any other object.