ELLERTON CASTLE; A Romance. BY "FITZROY PIKE." www CHAPTER THE THIRTY-THIRD. A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE. A SHORT Season of prosperity in the life of Heringford preceded his last and most distressing trials. To dwell upon this we have less than inclination; gladly would we, and easily could we, fill up chapter after chapter with the records of delight, but space forbids, and so we don't intend it. space At the church-yard gate Edward and Mat Maybird parted :— let us follow Edward home, where Willie Bats was awaiting his arrival. Willie is supremely happy. He is performing an impromptu dance with active gesticulation, in which frequent clapping of the hands performs the task assigned now to the castinets. There is but one thing can make Willie happy; we need not tell his errand. Cicely was found, and Kate was found,nay more, he would convey Edward to them. Edward was (let some lover fill the blank !) ! Mat Maybird's errand-not so immediately delightful-led ultimately to his own delectation. He went to Spenton's hovel, where, as usual, had arisen in his absence, from a recollection of his strange conduct on various occasions, suspicions by the score, which it required his utmost ingenuity to still. The results of his visit are all we shall detail:-Simon Byre acted towards Curts in a manner most mystifying to behold. Sir Richard Ellerton had been unlike himself, and reserved towards the conspirators, softened since Esther's death, and since the burial had not been seen; but the said conspirators were not greatly troubled thereat, since they knew their duties, and had lately been seized with a desire for their speedy and extemporaneous fulfilment. Old Jessamine they had not seen; she must have been starved; there was no alternative: at all events, she could not bear witness against them, save with the halter round her neck. Spenton had intelligence of importance to communicate, and they invited Mat Maybird to join them on the following morning in a visit to that gentleman at Ellerton Cave. Of the cave, now for the first time mentioned, more hereafter. Mat accepted the invitation. The following morning—(our history travels now at a good pace; not so Edward and Willie Bats, for Prento was in company, when)-on the following morning Edward and Willie, the latter acting as guide, set forth in search of-shall we say, Cicely? Their road was through Ellerton, and since Mat Maybird and his companions would follow the same path that day, it was arranged that Mat should go first, in order that Prento might have time for amusing himself on the journey without fear of being overtaken. Before starting, Mat was invited to breakfast with his comrades, but, for a marvel, he declined. "No," said he, "I have breakfasted.-Moreover, that pie of yours appeareth deficient in respect of cleanliness: it must have been made a fortnight since by old Jessamine, and concealed under a dust heap;-for the liquids," he added, examining with curious scrutiny the interior of a tin mug; "drink out of dirty vessels grates my teeth." It is night, and in the cottage of Mat's father at Ellerton sits the hopeful son, with Heringford and Willie ;-the father and mother sleep, while a wondering sister does the honours of the house. It is night. Edward and Willie have but just arrived, for Prento was in good spirits to-day. Mat Maybird has been to Ellerton Cave, and for the following reasons has returned excited :-Spenton is as wise as Heringford concerning the place of Kate's concealment— he obtained his information from the same person who told Willie. Mat Maybird's conduct, especially his constant refusal at the cave, repeated after a whole day of fasting, to break bread with the conspirators, had gone so far to confirm Andrew Westrill's suspicion against him, that he found himself compelled to save his credit by giving information of the intentions of Edward and Willie Bats. It was then resolved, in consultation, to waylay the travellers on the morrow; Mat Maybird being with them in disguise as a friend, would with Andrew Westrill be sufficient. Now, Mat knew that he was suspected, and was also very well aware of the object of Andrew Westrill, in leading him to believe that while he went with Heringford, there would be but one enemy to combat; therefore he was in excitement'; for to-morrow Curts, and Westrill, and Spenton, and Simon Byre would openly-or at least with tolerable openness -attack him, and he should then be enabled to break all their heads. Over this, as at supper he compensated for his unusual fast, Mat Maybird sat exulting. “But—but—” said Willie Bats, who listened in astonishment to these warlike thoughts-" but I cannot fight!" "Tush, Willie! hast thou not beaten Spenton? What will Cicely say?" "Yes-ah-no-yes-that is to say I am not in the least afraid." The conversation became general; but Willie still brooded over the unpleasant topic. "I think," said he, "I had better not go to-morrow, because Cicely-" "Will think you coward if you stay, and disbelieve the story of your former valour." "Of course," said Willie, " if you need my assistance, of course I'll go but Prento-" "Is a mettlesome steed, and when he scents a fight, is sure to rush into the thickest." "No!" groaned poor Willie, " do'st think so? Well! Heaven help us!" All things necessary having been arranged, and things eatable consumed, Mat's sister stole back to the sleep from which she had been awakened. Heringford thought not of the coming contest, but of once more, so shortly too, beholding Kate, until fatigue .brought sleep and happy dreams. Willie Bats felt such a peculiar vacancy in that part of his chest in which the heart usually is seated, that he could not sleep for wondering whither that organ might have fled; the conduct too of Mat Maybird disturbed him ; for that restless individual rose from his seat every three or four minutes to pace the room, to kick the leg of the table, examine his cudgel, and then take a draught of ale ere he returned, in the hope that by that means he might compose himself to sleep. In good time the morning came. To a sleepless man never did night fly so fast as this night did to Willie. A vision of breakfast and a gay hum of voices were about his eyes and ears; but he was scarcely conscious until the rough shaking Prento gave him reminded him that they were already on the road. "Rouse thyself, Willie," exclaimed Heringford; "look around thee this fine morning; is it not bracing, invigorating?" "Very," replied Willie, looking round. The result of his observation was, that he reined in his Prento, and argued concerning the murderous intentions of a holly bush, that clothed itself in mortal guise. Though Willie's eyes beheld but a Curts or a holly bush, had he looked beyond he would have seen scenery, that in summer, must be of the most beautiful description. It was diversified with hill and dale, which now spread out before them as they emerged from Ellerton Valley; there were patches of woodland and cultivated fields, green meadows, brooks, here and there farm-houses with their ponds, now frozen; a small river meandered through the scene, and was lost in the distance behind swelling land. The road, the twigs and branches of the trees, the blades of grass, were covered with hoar frost; the sun was gradually breaking through the red mist; it was a beautiful winter's morning. Riding at a rapid pace along a road like this must exhilarate the faintest heart, and Willie Bats waxed courageous as half the journey was completed, and still no one appeared to call his metal into question. "I think," quoth he, "I really think they have thought better of it, and are afraid to meet us!" "We must not lose them," replied Mat; (6 we had better slacken our pace to give them a chance of overtaking in case we be in advance." Here was a prolongation of torture! Willie wished he had held his tongue, and made a resolve that he would not speak again, as his eyes left the bushes, and turning round obedient to the new supposition, he twisted himself on the saddle, and kept strict watch upon the road behind. A loud shout caused him to jump trembling round. Those he feared were in the road. Simon Byre held Heringford's horse by the bridle, Mat Maybird was similarly detained by Westrill, whilst poor Willie perceived with consternation that the cross-bow which Curts carried was levelled against himself. This was the perception of an instant, and in that instant the ardent Prento, enraged by the noise around him, reared suddenly, and for the last time; for, receiving into his own head the bolt intended for his master, he fell lifeless to the ground. "With or against us?" demanded Westrill of Mat Maybird. "On the side of justice," replied Mat. Andrew understood him a sword gleamed in the air-but, ere it struck, Mat Maybird's cudgel came with full force on Westrill's head, and felled him bleeding to the ground. Without delay Mat leaped from his horse and grappled with Curts, who was preparing to make an attack on Willie Bats, as he lay rolling in whiteness on the frosty sprinkled road. One hand held firmly the right arm of the villain; at Mat's iron grasp the sword dropped from a powerless hand; the stout cudgel was in the air, about once more to descend :— "Stay!" exclaimed Curts, "I always trusted thee; strike not!" "I never trusted thee," replied Mat, as the cudgel felland Curts. Heringford, meanwhile, was grappling with the sturdy form of Simon Byre. His sword-the only one in company, for Mat relied upon his staff-with sheath and all belonging to it, had been torn suddenly from him at the very first, and Edward had no means of defence against his gigantic antagonist. "I will avenge mine insult !" cried Simon, fiercely, in his woman tones. With all his immense power he lifted the slight frame of Heringford, and strove to dash him to the ground: but he clung firmly, and the attempt was vain. Heringford grasped the man's his own were seized tightly in return; foot to foot, the brawny arms of Simon Byre interlacing with his own, Edward strove in vain to move the angry ruffian. Violently they worked to and fro; every vein in Byre's face was swollen with rage at finding his vengeance thus resisted; he yelled and shrieked, and shook his enemy with all his force; in his eagerness he slipped and fell, when Mat Maybird knocked him on the head. The globular form of the body of Willie Bats, and the excitement of his soul, had caused that valorous individual to roll about the road in a very peculiar manner during the contest now described, and he continued rolling hither and thither, until, by the aid of Maybird and Heringford, he was placed upon his feet. His first lamentation was that, by the chances of war, he had been prevented from sharing the honours of the fray. Mat Maybird considered that nothing could sound more glorious than to tell that a steed was shot under him, and this gave rise to the second chapter of lamentations over the defunct and well-beloved Prento. "Alas, poor Prento!" exclaimed he, with tears in his eyes, and his arms around the neck of the dead animal. "Good horse! I am sorry thou art gone-we were used to one another, and I loved |