The Waverley novels, by Sir Walter Scott, complete in 12 vol., printed from the latest English ed., embracing the author's last corrections, prefaces & notes.

PEVERIL OF THE PEAK. 511
that will not hear of a mine being wrought on his own ground? Will he
work on at dead loss, think ye?" demanded trusty Lance.
"Bridgenorth? - he of Moultrassie-Hall, that stopped the great Felicity
Work, on which his father laid out, some say, ten thousand pounds, and.
never got in a penny? Why, what has he to do with Sir Geoffrey's property
down here at Bonadventure? It was never his, I trow."
" Nay, what do I know?" answered Lance, who saw the impression he
had made. "Law and debt will give him half Derbyshire, I think, unless
you stand by old Sir Geoffrey."'
"But if Sir Geoffrey be dead," said Ditchley, cautiously, " what good will
our standing by do to him?"
" I did not say he was dead, but only as bad as dead; in the hands of
the Roundheads —a prisoner up yonder, at his own castle," said Lance;
" and will have his head cut off, like the good Earl of Derby's, at Bolton-leMoors."
" Nay, then, comrades," said Gaffer Ditchley, " an it be as Master Lance
says, I think we should bear a hand for stout old Sir Geoffrey, against a
low-born mean-spirited fellow like Bridgenorth, who shut up a shaft had
cost thousands, without getting a penny profit on't. So hurra for Sir Geoffrey, and down with the Rump! But hold ye a blink - hold" - (and the
waving of his hand stopped the commencing cheer)- " Hark ye, Master
Lance, it must be all over, for the beacon is as black as night; and you know
yourself that marks the Lord's death."
" It will kindle again in an instant," said Lance; internally adding, " I
pray to God it may 1- It will kindle in an instant — lack of fuel, and the
confusion of the family."
"Ay, like enow, like enow," said Ditchley; " but I winna budge till I
see it blazing."
"Why then, there a-goes!" said Lacne. " Thank thee, Cis-thank thee,
my good wench.- Believe your own eyes, my lads, if you will not believe
me; and now hurra for Peveril of the Peak-the King and his friends-and
down with Rumps and Roundheads i"
The sudden rekindling of the beacon had all the effect which Lance could
have desired upon the minds of his rude and ignorant hearers, who, in their
superstitious humour, had strongly associated the Polar-star of Peveril with
the fortunes of the family. Once moved, according to the national character of their countrymen, they soon became enthusiastic; and Lance
found himself at the head of thirty stout fellows and upwards, armed with
their pick-axes, and ready to execute whatever task he should impose on
them.
Trusting to enter the Castle by the postern, which had served to accommodate himself and other domestics upon an emergency, his only anxiety
was to keep his march silent; and he earnestly recommended to his followers to reserve their shouts for the moment of the attack. They had not
advanced far on their road to the Castle, when Cisly Sellok met them, so
breathless with haste, that the poor girl was obliged to throw herself into
Master Lance's arms.
"Stand up, my mettled wench," said he, giving her a sly kiss at the same
time, "and let us know what is going on up at the Castle."
" My lady bids you, as you would serve God and your master, not to come
up to the Castle, which can but make bloodshed; for she says Sir Geoffrey
is lawfully in hand, and that he must bide the issue; and that he is innocent of what he is charged with, and is going up to speak for himself before
King and Council, and she goes up with him. And besides, they have
found out the postern, the Roundhead rogues; for two of them saw me
when I went out of door, and chased me; but I showed them a fair pair of
heels."
"As ever dashed dew from the cowslip," said Lance. "But what the