ndow. The light fell on a clump of early
roses that grew upon a flat and ancient wall, the vestige of some old
moat or turret. As they passed nearly at its base, Walter sprang up and
pulled one, then shrouded it within his bosom, as he thought, unobserved
by his stern warder; but it was not so--the veteran noted the little
act, and, noting, understood it. There was a time when he could feel and
not define; that time was past, and succeeded by the present, when he
could define, but hardly feel. In this instance, however, his memory did
him good service; and the remembrance of what his own course had been
came upon him with all the freshness of renewed boyhood, so that he
could have pressed his youthful and ardent antagonist to his bosom. This
sunbeam of the past was not to continue, for he opened a wicket-gate
leading into the park, and blew one note, not loud, but clear, upon a
whistle. In an instant, as if the grass had produced men, Walter found
himself in the midst of mounted soldiers. He looked around him in
amazement, and even touched the nearest horse, to be certain that it was
not a dream! There they stood, the moonbeams, broken by the
overshadowing trees, coming down in dappled spots upon the chargers and
their iron-looking riders: carved centaurs could not be more immovable.
True, Walter had been absorbed; yet was all this real! There was for
him, too, a stout steed, which he was twice desired to mount ere he
obeyed.

CHAPTER IV.

Jointure, portion, gold, estate,
Houses, household-stuff, or land,
(The low conveniences of fate,)
Are Greek no lovers understand.

COWLEY.

"Verily the Lord scattereth!" was the exclamation of the Reverend Jonas
Fleetword, as he passed from one to another of the apartments of Cecil
Place, seeking for some one with whom to hold converse, yet finding
none. Sir Willmott Burrell was abroad, even at an hour so early; Lady
Frances Cromwell closeted with Constantia; Sir Robert Cecil particularly
engaged; even Barbara Iverk was not to be found--and the poor preacher
had but little chance of either a breakfast or a gossip, or, as he
termed it, "a commune." In the course of his wanderings, however, he at
length encountered Solomon Grundy, puffing and courtesying under the
weight of a huge pasty he was conveying, by a prodigious effort, to the
buttery.

"Ah, Solomon, my friend," said Fleetword, "of a truth it is a pleasant
thing to see thee."

"You me