Produced by David Edwards and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)

_Preparing for Publication, in 3 vols. 8vo._,

Hildebrand

“Within the Temple hall we were too loud, The garden here is more convenient.”

Hildebrand

LONDON: JOHN MORTIMER, ADELAIDE STREET, TRAFALGAR SQUARE.

Hildebrand

HILDEBRAND: OR, THE DAYS OF QUEEN ELIZABETH.

Frugal and wise, a Walsingham is thine; A Drake, who made thee mistress of the sea, And bore thy name in thunder round the world. Then flamed thy spirit high; but who can speak The numerous worthies of the maiden reign? In Raleigh mark their every glory mix’d; Raleigh, the scourge of Spain! THOMSON.

LONDON: JOHN MORTIMER, ADELAIDE STREET, TRAFALGAR SQUARE. MDCCCXLIV.

LONDON: PRINTED BY HENRY RICHARDS, BRYDGES-STREET, COVENT-GARDEN.

It was on the same evening that closed the preceding chapter of this history, and while the dusk was hardly yet apparent, that the maiden Abigail passed up the principal staircase of the mansion of Master Shedlock, known as New Bethlehem, to a chamber on the upper floor.

Whatever might be her reason, she affected to step forward with excessive gentleness; but her shoes, being of the very strongest material, and hobnailed withal, were not the best adapted to give her purpose effect, and, in her way upward, her foot made a heavy stamp at every step. But, judging from the expression of her face, she appeared to be insensible of this, and to consider that her progress was unattended by any intimation of her tread.

On reaching the summit of the stairs, she hastened along the passage beyond, on which the stairs opened, to a neighbouring door, leading to an inner chamber. She opened the door with great caution; and after a moment’s pause, as if for the purpose of listening, made a step forward, and passed into the chamber.

It was a bed-room, and, from various appearances around, was evidently occupied by an invalid. Indeed, such a person was, on a close survey, observed to be in possession of the bed; and her peculiar head-gear announced her to be a woman. It was Dame Shedlock.

That poor lady’s ardent powers of endurance had been overwhelmed, at last. And what powers, of mere earthly constitution, could bear up unshaken against one uninterrupted tide of oppression and persecution? Since she last appeared on the stage of our history, her trials had, in point of bitterness and violence, even increased, and she was now subject to even more galling mortifications. The temper and habits of the hypocritical Shedlock had become more tyrannical than ever, and, as his passive and uncomplaining victim, she was the only object on which his spleen could fall.