Page:Traditional Tales of the English and Scottish Peasantry - 1887.djvu/111

Rh inspired thy strain, be she lordly or be she low." The minstrel seated himself, and the interrupted mirth recommenced, which was not long to continue. When the minstrel began to sing the King of the Peak fixed his large and searching eyes on his person with a scrutiny from which nothing could escape, and which called a flush of apprehension to the face of his daughter Dora. Something like a cloud came upon his brow at the first verse, which, darkening down through the second, became as dark as a December night at the close of the third, when, rising, and motioning Sir Ralph Cavendish to follow, he retired into the recess of the southern window. "Sir Knight," said the Lord of Haddon, "thou art the sworn friend of John Manners, and well thou knowest what his presumption dares at, and what are the letts between him and me. Cavendo tutus! ponder on thy own motto well. 'Let seas between us swell and sound:' let his song be prophetic; for Derbyshire—for England—has no river deep enough and broad enough to preserve him from a father's sword, whose peace he seeks to wound." "Knight of Haddon," said Sir Ralph, "John Manners is indeed my friend; and the friend of a Cavendish can be no mean person; a braver and a better spirit never aspired after beauty." "Sir Knight," said the King of the Peak, "I court no man's counsel; hearken to my words. Look at the moon's shadow on Haddon-dial; there it is beside the casement; the shadow falls short of twelve. If it darkens the midnight hour, and John Manners be found here, he shall be cast, fettered, neck and heel, into the deepest dungeon of Haddon."

All this passed not unobserved of Dora Vernon, whose fears and affections divined immediate mischief from the calm speech and darkened brow of her father. Her heart sank within her when he beckoned her to withdraw; she followed him into the great tapestried room. "My daughter, my love, Dora," said the not idle fears of a father, "wine has done more than its usual good office with the wits of our guests to-night; they look on thee with bolder eyes and speak of thee with a bolder tongue than a father can wish. Retire, therefore, to thy chamber. One of thy wisest attendants shall be thy companion. Adieu, my love, till sunrise!" He kissed her white temples and white brow; and Dora clung to his neck and sobbed in his bosom, while the secret of her heart rose near her lips. He returned to his guests,