n on the mossy roots of a giant oak, the nightingales overhead
chanted as if in melancholy welcome. They were saved!

But in their home, fierce fires glared amidst the tossing torch-light;
the crowd, baffled by the strength of the door, scaled the wall, broke
through the lattice-work of the hall window, and streaming through
room after room, roared forth, "Death to the wizard!" Amidst the sordid
dresses of the men, the soiled and faded tinsel of the tymbesteres
gleamed and sparkled. It was a scene the she-fiends revelled in,--dear
are outrage and malice, and the excitement of turbulent passions, and
the savage voices of frantic men, and the thirst of blood to those
everlasting furies of a mob, under whatever name we know them, in
whatever time they taint with their presence,--women in whom womanhood
is blasted!

Door after door was burst open with cries of disappointed rage; at last
they ascended the turret-stairs, they found a small door barred and
locked. Tim's father, a huge axe in his brawny arm, shivered the panels;
the crowd rushed in, and there, seated amongst a strange and motley
litter, they found the devoted Madge. The poor old woman had collected
into this place, as the stronghold of the mansion, whatever portable
articles seemed to her most precious, either from value or association.
Sibyll's gittern (Marmaduke's gift) lay amidst a lumber of tools and
implements; a faded robe of her dead mother's, treasured by Madge and
Sibyll both, as a relic of holy love; a few platters and cups of pewter,
the pride of old Madge's heart to keep bright and clean; odds and ends
of old hangings; a battered silver brooch (a love-gift to Madge herself
when she was young),--these, and suchlike scraps of finery, hoards
inestimable to the household memory and affection, lay confusedly heaped
around the huge grim model, before which, mute and tranquil, sat the
brave old woman.

The crowd halted, and stared round in superstitious terror and dumb
marvel.

The leader of the tymbesteres sprang forward.

"Where is thy master, old hag, and where the bonny maid who glamours
lords, and despises us bold lasses?"

"Alack! master and the damsel have gone hours ago! I am alone in the
house; what's your will?"

"The crone looks parlous witchlike!" said Tim's father; crossing
himself, and somewhat retreating from her gray, unquiet eyes. And,
indeed, poor Madge, with her wrinkled face, bony form, and high cap,
corresponded far more with