Produced by Mirjam, Suzanne Shell and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) TRANSCRIBER NOTE: Words that were printed in italics are marked with _ _. Obvious inconsistencies, printing and spelling errors in the original have been corrected. THE Weird of the Wentworths; A TALE OF GEORGE IV.'S TIME. BY JOHANNES SCOTUS. All nations have their omens drear, Their legends wild of woe and fear. SIR WALTER SCOTT. [Illustration: SANS CHANGER] IN TWO VOLUMES.--VOL. II. LONDON: SAUNDERS, OTLEY, AND CO., 66 BROOK STREET, HANOVER SQUARE 1862. LONDON: PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, STAMFORD STREET AND CHARING CROSS. THE WEIRD OF THE WENTWORTHS; A TALE OF GEORGE IV.'s TIME. CHAPTER I. "Oh! Liberty, inspire me! And eagle strength supply! Thou, love almighty, fire me, I'll burst my prison--or die!" _James Montgomery._ Perhaps the noble aspirations contained in the lines that head this chapter are misapplied to a murderer flying his just punishment, but even to the felon-convict liberty is sweet. L'Estrange, as soon as he was left alone, began to think what he should decide on,--whether to escape or remain. There lay the rope, and the file to burst open the prison bars! All was prepared for his flight. Why did he hesitate? Why did he linger? Between the peals he heard the clock strike twelve; he thought too he heard the clatter of horse-hoofs, probably the Captain on his way home. Why did he stay? he felt an irresistible inclination to await his doom. Why? Because he would see Ellen once more! If he went--if he escaped--he would perhaps never see her--he would have to fly his country. He would stay. Come what might--it was death at the worst! But alas! the Captain, what would he think? he cared not for that. But what would he _do_? He who had gained admission to his cell could again do so; he who had offered means of flight could also force him to fly; it was useless then, after all he must go! Oh, that he had never come! that man was his evil genius! "Farewell, then, to Scotland, farewell, Ellen, I must go and hide on a foreign strand." He then began to think how he was to manage his escape. After all it was not so very easy. What if he should fail? he had already lost precious time! Bill would only wait till three--he must be up and doing.