is green paddock at Bucklaw, but enjoys himself as comfortably when
haltered to the rack in this ruinous vault, as if he had been foaled
in it; and, I who have the freedom of a prisoner at large, to range
through the dungeons of this wretched old tower, can hardly,
betwixt whistling and sleeping, contrive to pass away the hour till
dinner-time."

And with this disconsolate reflection, he wended his way to the bartizan
or battlements of the tower, to watch what objects might appear on the
distant moor, or to pelt, with pebbles and pieces of lime, the sea-mews
and cormorants which established themselves incautiously within the
reach of an idle young man.

Ravenswood, with a mind incalculably deeper and more powerful than that
of his companion, had his own anxious subjects of reflection, which
wrought for him the same unhappiness that sheer enui and want of
occupation inflicted on his companion. The first sight of Lucy Ashton
had been less impressive than her image proved to be upon reflection. As
the depth and violence of that revengeful passion by which he had been
actuated in seeking an interview with the father began to abate by
degrees, he looked back on his conduct towards the daughter as harsh
and unworthy towards a female of rank and beauty. Her looks of grateful
acknowledgment, her words of affectionate courtesy, had been repelled
with something which approached to disdain; and if the Master of
Ravenswood had sustained wrongs at the hand of Sir William Ashton, his
conscience told him they had been unhandsomely resented towards his
daughter. When his thoughts took this turn of self-reproach, the
recollection of Lucy Ashton's beautiful features, rendered yet more
interesting by the circumstances in which their meeting had taken place,
made an impression upon his mind at once soothing and painful. The
sweetness of her voice, the delicacy of her expressions, the vivid glow
of her filial affection, embittered his regret at having repulsed her
gratitude with rudeness, while, at the same time, they placed before his
imagination a picture of the most seducing sweetness.

Even young Ravenswood's strength of moral feeling and rectitude of
purpose at once increased the danger of cherishing these recollections,
and the propensity to entertain them. Firmly resolved as he was to
subdue, if possible, the predominating vice in his character, he
admitted with willingness--nay, he summoned up in his imagination--the
ideas by whi