hopes that had been defeated by the death of Eustace. "You
will not wonder," added he, "that I have a painful eagerness to know
every circumstance of that lamentable event."

Dr. Lloyd regarded his patient with scrutinizing attention. "You know,"
said he, "that the resolute defence of Pembroke-Castle provoked the
parliamentary General to adopt measures that were intended to strike
terror into the King's party; and from the particular manner in which
you apply to me, you possibly also know that, influenced by compassion,
I removed the body of Eustace, and performed those offices which
friendship required."

The undefined, unacknowledged hopes which had floated in the mind of
Arthur vanished at this reply, and as they disappeared, convinced him,
that he had cherished a vain romantic illusion. A long pause ensued; De
Vallance heaved a deep sigh, and asked if the noble youth was resigned
to his fate.

"Life was very dear to him," answered Dr. Lloyd, "and no
wonder.--Talent, personal beauty, lively and generous feelings, the
purest sense of honour, and the noblest aspirings after fame, were
combined in his character. He loved too, and he knew himself beloved.
You seem, Sir, about his age; my sensibility has been blunted by time;
but I will appeal to your own susceptibility, to conceive the sensations
of his impassioned heart, when he found himself suddenly arrested in the
bloom of manhood, by a summons to an ignominious death. This, too, at a
distance from all his kindred, and after having sustained for many
months the most severe warfare, and the cruellest privations. But if you
ask me if he discovered any unmanly weakness at this awful moment--I
answer none. He looked and moved like a hero going to mount the car of
triumph. The lustre of his dauntless eye appalled the musketeers, who
were drawn up in the court. 'Take sure aim,' said he; 'Your commander
spares not youth and loyalty; therefore be like him, pitiless.'"

"Detestable act, infernal massacre!" exclaimed De Vallance.--"Retributive
Heaven, I own thy justice! That murderous volley, Bellingham, slew thy
son!" Dr. Lloyd clasped the clenched hands with which he seemed prepared
to beat his own bosom, and requested an explanation.

"Do not, do not," said the tortured Arthur, "believe me capable of
repaying your kind commiseration with ingratitude, if I own myself
descended from the most cruel and treacherous of men. The murdered
Eustace was rightful heir to the titl