g and redoubling peals of blows against the great gate echoed
through the castle-hall.

Captain Walladmor was silent and disturbed: for any sound, whether from
friend or foe, was to them the signal of separation: but the effect on
Miss Walladmor was terrific. She, innocent creature! started up like a
guilty thing: for one moment her countenance flushed with fugitive
colors, and then settled into a deathly paleness: she stood as if
frozen: her hands were raised: her eyes were fixed on the door: and she
looked like a statue of panic before a judgment seat listening for some
irrevocable doom. A second time the hideous uproar was heard: and a
crash, as of some mighty ruin. Captain Walladmor groaned as he gazed
upon the beautiful figure and the sweet countenance before him, both
petrified into marble, speechless, breathless, sightless,--giving no
sign of life but by spasmodic startings, that shot momentarily over her
bosom and lovely mouth: for his sake was she tortured thus--for his
sake, that in a minute--oh! how brief a minute--must part from her,
must see that form--that countenance no more! A third time the dreadful
summons sounded: the hall of Walladmor rang with tempestuous voices:
steps ran along the galleries: the clattering of heavy heels was heard
on the great stair-case; the clashing of swords; tumult, and hurrying;
curses, and pursuit: and suddenly from the upper galleries was heard a
thundering discharge of carbines. That sound awoke Miss Walladmor from
her trance: she kept her eyes on the door--she stretched out her hand,
with the rapidity of flight and terror, to Captain Walladmor--and said,
but with the stifled whisper of one in agony: "Oh!--come--come--come--
come--come!" He rose, and for one moment paused. A presentiment was at
his heart that it were better he should go. Yet he had not the
resolution to refuse _that_ hand which was stretched out to save him,
nor voluntarily to forego the sweet--sweet feeling that he was
protected by Miss Walladmor. In such torments of farewell anguish, what
a heaven to be shielded--if it were but for a moment--by the tenderness
of Miss Walladmor's love! Passively as a child he yielded himself to
her guidance as she led him into her dressing-room. Grace was sitting
there weeping: and rose as they entered. "Run Grace," said Miss
Walladmor rapidly--"Run to the outer door, lock it, lock it: open it
for nobody." So much had sorrow for her mistress absorbed all feminine
feelings