Lady Nithsdale saw the tears glistening in her eye-lashes: "You weep, cousin! you are weeping for me! Alas! alas! you know his doom. You know the counsels of those in power; and you know that they are his inveterate foes. You fear to tell me that you know it!" "On my honour, I know nothing," repeated the duchess with solemnity; "but surely we all suspect and fear enough to draw tears from drier eyes and harder hearts than mine. My dear cousin knows of old, that a little thing will move me to smile, or to weep; so you must not augur ill from my childish weakness, but set it down to the account of Christian Montrose's variable temperament:" and she strove to smile through the tears which now flowed every moment faster down her cheeks. After some farther consultation between the friends they parted, and at dusk Lady Nithsdale again repaired to the Tower. The accommodating guard was in attendance. He quickly and silently admitted her through the wicket. As she passed under the first archway, she fancied she perceived another muffled female figure who glided quietly on, as if accustomed to the way. The sight re-assured her, as it seemed to confirm what the duchess had told her of the potency of a golden key. In silence she crossed the bridge over the moat: she looked fearfully on all sides, dreading lest each form she saw might be that of some guard more strict in the performance of his duty; and doubting whether in a few moments she might be blessed with the sight of her husband, or whether she might be driven forth despairing to her desolate lodging. When on the bridge, the masts of the vessels lying in the Thames were visible over the parapet. She could just distinguish them dark against the sky. She cast towards them a lingering look, and thought, "O that we were together on board the meanest of those vessels; together, on our way to life and liberty!" They emerged from the gloom of the second archway, and keeping under the shadow of the southern wall, they passed, what seemed to her, a considerable distance between the lofty buildings. "Those are the warders' apartments," whispered the guard, pointing to the high wall to the north: "'Tis there that most of the rebels have their lodgings; go straight on, till you get to the Traitor's gate,--there, to the right,"--she shuddered as the word was uttered, and looked fearfully as he directed to the portals which are only opened to admit a prisoner, but never to send him forth to freedom;--"when you get there, turn to your left through the Bloody Tower,"--a more icy chill ran through her veins;--"then to your left again, up the steps, and you will see a girl who will lead you where you wish to go. I must not be seen any farther than this spot. I shall be on guard just an hour longer. Be sure you do not linger beyond that time, or you will never make your way out of this dismal place; and as for me! I shall pay a heavy price for my good-nature."