an ungrateful churl, whom, on the first opportunity, I will assuredly
cudgel to a mummy."

To this menace Matthew made no reply, and Peveril presently heard him
leave the apartment, after a few earnest words betwixt him and his
mistress.

Impatient at this delay, and at the evil omen implied in these people's
conversation and deportment, Peveril, after some vain spurring of his
horse, which positively refused to move a step farther, dismounted once
more, and was about to pursue his journey on foot, notwithstanding the
extreme disadvantage under which the high riding-boots of the period
laid those who attempted to walk with such encumbrances, when he was
stopped by a gentle call from the window.

Her counsellor was no sooner gone, than the good-nature and habitual
veneration of the dame for the house of Peveril, and perhaps some fear
for her counsellor's bones, induced her to open the casement, and cry,
but in a low and timid tone, "Hist! hist! Master Julian--be you gone?"

"Not yet, dame," said Julian; "though it seems my stay is unwelcome."

"Nay, but good young master, it is because men counsel so differently;
for here was my poor old Roger Raine would have thought the chimney
corner too cold for you; and here is Matt Chamberlain thinks the cold
courtyard is warm enough."

"Never mind that, dame," said Julian; "do but only tell me what has
happened at Martindale Castle? I see the beacon is extinguished."

"Is it in troth?--ay, like enough--then good Sir Geoffrey has gone to
heaven with my old Roger Raine!"

"Sacred Heaven!" exclaimed Peveril; "when was my father taken ill?"

"Never as I knows of," said the dame; "but, about three hours since,
arrived a party at the Castle, with buff-coats and bandoleers, and one
of the Parliament's folks, like in Oliver's time. My old Roger Raine
would have shut the gates of the inn against them, but he is in the
churchyard, and Matt says it is against law; and so they came in and
refreshed men and horses, and sent for Master Bridgenorth, that is at
Moultrassie Hall even now; and so they went up to the Castle, and there
was a fray, it is like, as the old Knight was no man to take napping, as
poor Roger Raine used to say. Always the officers had the best on't; and
reason there is, since they had the law of their side, as our Matthew
says. But since the pole-star of the Castle is out, as your honour says,
why, doubtless, the old gentleman is dead."

"Gracious Heaven!--Dear da