fore the Dempster and the Keys of the
island, assembled under the vaulted cope of heaven, and seated on the
terrace of the Zonwald Hill, where of old Druid and Scald held their
courts of judgment. The criminal was heard at length in his own defence,
which amounted to little more than those specious allegations of public
consideration, which are ever used to colour the ugly front of treason.
He was fully convicted of his crime, and he received the doom of a
traitor."

"But which, I trust, is not yet executed?" said Lady Peveril, not
without an involuntary shudder.

"You are a fool, Margaret," said the Countess sharply; "think you I
delayed such an act of justice, until some wretched intrigues of the
new English Court might have prompted their interference? No, wench--he
passed from the judgment-seat to the place of execution, with no farther
delay than might be necessary for his soul's sake. He was shot to death
by a file of musketeers in the common place of execution called Hango
Hill."

Bridgenorth clasped his hands together, wrung them, and groaned
bitterly.

"As you seem interested for this criminal," added the Countess,
addressing Bridgenorth, "I do him but justice in repeating to you, that
his death was firm and manly, becoming the general tenor of his life,
which, but for that gross act of traitorous ingratitude, had been fair
and honourable. But what of that? The hypocrite is a saint, and
the false traitor a man of honour, till opportunity, that faithful
touchstone, proves their metal to be base."

"It is false, woman--it is false!" said Bridgenorth, no longer
suppressing his indignation.

"What means this bearing, Master Bridgenorth?" said Lady Peveril, much
surprised. "What is this Christian to you, that you should insult the
Countess of Derby under my roof?"

"Speak not to me of countesses and of ceremonies," said Bridgenorth;
"grief and anger leave me no leisure for idle observances to humour the
vanity of overgrown children.--O Christian--worthy, well worthy, of the
name thou didst bear! My friend--my brother--the brother of my blessed
Alice--the only friend of my desolate estate! art thou then cruelly
murdered by a female fury, who, but for thee, had deservedly paid with
her own blood that of God's saints, which she, as well as her tyrant
husband, had spilled like water!--Yes, cruel murderess!" he continued,
addressing the Countess, "he whom thou hast butchered in thy insane
vengeance, sacrificed