The two servants, who had been sitting down just before, started up on the appearance of Bernard, and advanced to accost him.
“The servants of the Lord,” answered Abigail.
Bernard smiled. “They are poor, honest clowns,” he said to Hildebrand, “whom I would, with thy leave, provide for in thy household.”
“Have it so!” returned Hildebrand. “But where didst thou pick them up?”
“They were the servants of Shedlock,” replied Bernard.
“’Twas a goodly sight--a night-burying!” remarked Zedekiah.
“Ay, ay, but be of good cheer!” said Bernard. “You hear, you have both a provision! Now, Master Hildebrand, let us on!”
Without more words, he led the way up a contiguous staircase, followed by Hildebrand. On reaching the summit, he paused before a neighbouring door, leading to Master Gilbert’s chamber, which, without tarrying to solicit admittance, he immediately threw open.
As the door was thus thrown back, Hildebrand’s glance fell, not on the hard countenance of the lawyer, but on the faces of Sir Edgar and Evaline. It required but that one glance, brief as it was, to assure him that he was forgiven--that the height of earthly fruition was still his; and, with a heart overflowing with joy, he darted into the chamber, and caught Evaline in his arms.
“Mine!--my own true love!” he exclaimed, as he pressed the blushing girl to his bosom.
“And with my free consent,” smiled Sir Edgar, in broken accents.
“To-morrow, an’ it so like thee,” answered Sir Edgar.
Hildebrand, still holding Evaline to his bosom, bent down to her ear.
“Shall it be so, sweet Evaline?” he whispered.
The fair girl, whether overcome with her emotion, or restrained by those delicate scruples of her sex, which constitute the charm of modesty, rendered him no oral reply, but gently pressed his trembling hand. As she did so, a loud flourish of trumpets, that made the ear ring again, was heard without.
Thus speaking, he rushed forwards to the chamber-casement, and threw it open.
A concourse of citizens were assembled below; and at Temple-bar, under the archway of the gate, were a troop of mounted heralds, sounding trumpets. As Bernard appeared at the window, the music ceased, and one of the heralds, holding a written paper in his hand, spurred to the front, and, amidst a profound silence, delivered the following