a doleful clang, as if calamity had
come embodied in her beautiful person.

"A very great disrespect!" exclaimed Captain Langford, an English
officer who had recently brought despatches to Governor Shute. "The
funeral should have been deferred lest Lady Eleanore's spirits be
affected by such a dismal welcome."

"With your pardon, sir," replied Dr. Clarke, a physician and a famous
champion of the popular party, "whatever the heralds may pretend, a
dead beggar must have precedence of a living queen. King Death confers
high privileges."

These remarks-were interchanged while the speakers waited a passage
through the crowd which had gathered on each side of the gateway,
leaving an open avenue to the portal of the province-house. A black
slave in livery now leaped from behind the coach and threw open the
door, while at the same moment Governor Shute descended the flight of
steps from his mansion to assist Lady Eleanore in alighting. But the
governor's stately approach was anticipated in a manner that excited
general astonishment. A pale young man with his black hair all in
disorder rushed from the throng and prostrated himself beside the
coach, thus offering his person as a footstool for Lady Eleanore
Rochcliffe to tread upon. She held back an instant, yet with an
expression as if doubting whether the young man were worthy to bear
the weight of her footstep rather than dissatisfied to receive such
awful reverence from a fellow-mortal.

"Up, sir!" said the governor, sternly, at the same time lifting his
cane over the intruder. "What means the Bedlamite by this freak?"

"Nay," answered Lady Eleanore, playfully, but with more scorn than
pity in her tone; "Your Excellency shall not strike him. When men seek
only to be trampled upon, it were a pity to deny them a favor so
easily granted--and so well deserved!" Then, though as lightly as a
sunbeam on a cloud, she placed her foot upon the cowering form and
extended her hand to meet that of the governor.

There was a brief interval during which Lady Eleanore retained this
attitude, and never, surely, was there an apter emblem of aristocracy
and hereditary pride trampling on human sympathies and the kindred of
nature than these two figures presented at that moment. Yet the
spectators were so smitten with her beauty, and so essential did pride
seem to the existence of such a creature, that they gave a
simultaneous acclamation of applause.

"Who is this insolent young fellow?"