and to his sword. He
advanced; continued to smile; put his forefinger on his lips as a sign
for the prisoner to make no noise; and, coming close up to him,
whispered--"I know you, Captain! But all's right:" and then, nodding
with a confidential air, he said--"Push on."
It was Kilmary, who had sometime back enlisted into the dragoons.
Captain Walladmor opened the door; and passed out--closely followed by
the dragoon. Then, reclosing the door, he descended safely with his
companion, through all the numerous impediments of bolts and bars, to
the picture-gallery. At the very first window that they came to, the
ladder was fixed: this, by way of showing some confidence in him, he
pointed out to Kilmary; and told him, if he wished to be of service to
him, to descend--and prepare the boatmen on the shore. Then, rightly
judging that the man had made himself a party to his escape for the
sake of reaping a large reward, he put into his hand one of the
rouleaus of gold which Miss Walladmor had sent by Tom, and enjoined him
to be secret and vigilant. The man expressed his gratitude; disappeared
through the window; and Captain Walladmor was left alone in the
picture-gallery to trace out the road to his cousin's apartments.
His agitation had subsided: all was silent: and he now felt assured
that nothing could defeat him of his interview with Miss Walladmor. As
he moved down the gallery amongst the portraits of his ancestors, he
paused for a moment before one which fronted him and struck him
powerfully. It was the portrait of a lady, young and of pensive beauty:
the costume was splendid and somewhat fanciful, so that it was not easy
by candle-light to determine the generation to which she had belonged.
But no doubt she had at some period been a member of his house: and
Captain Walladmor was fascinated by the expression; for she seemed to
look down upon him with pitying love.--The expression was not false. It
was a face (but he knew it not) that had for one brief fortnight, some
three-and-twenty years ago, looked down upon _his_ with maternal love.
Some wandering dream of such a possibility passed through his mind; he
sighed; and moved on.
With a cautious step he threaded the labyrinth of passages till he came
to the door which, by certain signs, he knew must be _that_ which
opened into Miss Walladmor's apartments. It stood ajar: he pushed it
gently open: the room was empty: there was no noise; and a lamp was
burning silently on t
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