“Well, let them pass,” cried the captain; “what, have we nothing to do better than to stop passengers, like footpads on the king's highway! Give them of your canteens, and let the rascals pass. Your orders were to give the alarm if any hostile party landed on the coast, not to detain peaceable subjects on their lawful business.” “I beg your honor's pardon,” returned the sergeant; “but these men seemed lurking about the grounds for no good, and as they kept carefully aloof from the place where our sentinel was posted, until to-night, Downing thought it looked suspiciously and detained them.” “Downing is a fool, and it may go hard with him for his officiousness. What have you done with the men?” “I took them to the guardroom in the east wings your honor.” “Then feed them; and hark ye, sirrah! liquor them well, that we hear no complaints, and let them go.” “Yes, sir, yes, your honor shall be obeyed; but there is a straight, soldierly-looking fellow among them, that I think might be persuaded to enlist, if he were detained till morning. I doubt, sir, by his walk, but he has served already.” “Ha! what say you!” cried the captain, pricking up his ears like a hound who hears a well-known cry; “served, think ye, already?” “There are signs about him, your honor, to that effect An old soldier is seldom deceived in such a thing; and considering his disguise, for it can be no other, and the place where we took him, there is no danger of a have-us corpses until he is tied to us by the laws of the kingdom.” “Peace, you knave!” said Borroughcliffe, rising, and making a devious route toward the door; “you speak in the presence of my lord chief justice that is to be, and should not talk lightly of the laws. But still you say reason: give me your arm, sergeant, and lead the way to the east wing; my eyesight is good for nothing in such a dark night. A soldier should always visit his guard before the tattoo beats.” After emulating the courtesy of their host, Captain Borroughcliffe retired on this patriotic errand, leaning on his subordinate in a style of most familiar condescension. Dillon continued at the table, endeavoring to express the rancorous feelings of his breast by a satirical smile of contempt, that was necessarily lost on all but himself, as a large mirror threw back the image of his morose and unpleasant features. But we must precede the veteran colonel in his visits to the “cloisters.” CHAPTER X. ----“And kindness like their own Inspired those eyes, affectionate and glad, That seem'd to love whate'er they looked upon; Whether with Hebe's mirth her features shone, Or if a shade more pleasing them o'ercast-- Yet so becomingly th' expression past, That each succeeding look was lovelier than the last.” _Gertrude of Wyoming_.