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.

WOODSTOCKC. 281
would have blown the house up before now.-Ah! he is a fellow would take
the earth like a rabbit-if he had been here, never may I stir but he would
have countermined them ere now, and
--- "'is sport to have the engineer
Hoist with his own petard.'
as our immortal Shakspeare has it."
"Oh, Lord, the poor mad old gentleman," thought Phoebe-" Oh, sir, had
you not better leave alone playbooks, and think of your end?" uttered she
aloud, in sheer terror and vexation of spirit.
"If I had not made up my mind to that many days since," answered the
knight, " I had not now met this hour with a free bosom -'As gentle and as jocund as to rest,
Go I to death-truth hath a quiet breast."'
As he spoke, a broad glare of light flashed from without, through the
windows of the hall, and betwixt the.strong iron stanchions with which
they were secured-a broad discoloured light it was, which shed a red and
dusky illumination on the old armour and weapons, as if it had been the
reflection of a conflagration. Phoebe screamed aloud, and, forgetful of reverence in the moment of passion, clung close to the knight's cloak and
arm, while Dame Jellicot, from her solitary niche, having the use of her
eyes, though bereft of her hearing, yelled like an owl when the moon breaks
out suddenly.
" Take care, good Phoebe," said the knight; " you will prevent my using
my weapon if you hang upon me thus.-The bungling fools cannot fix their
petard without the use of torches! Now let me take the advantage of this
interval. -Remember what I told thee, and how to put off time."
" Oh, Lord-ay, sir," said Phoebe, "I will say any thing, Oh, Lord, that
it were but over - Ah! ah!" - (two prolonged screams) -" I hear something hissing like a serpent."
" It is the fusee, as we martialists call it," replied the knight; "that is,
Phoebe, the match which fires the petard, and which is longer or shorter,
according to the distance."
Here the knight's discourse was cut short by a dreadful explosion, which,
as he had foretold, shattered the door, strong as it was, to pieces, and
brought down the glass clattering from the windows with all the painted
heroes and heroines, who had been recorded on that fragile place of memory
for centuries. The women shrieked incessantly, and were answered by the
bellowing of Bevis, though shut up at a distance from the scene of action.
The knight, shaking Phoebe from him with difficulty, advanced into the
hall to meet those who rushed in, with torches lighted and weapons prepared.
"Death to all who resist-life to those who surrender!" exclaimed Cromwell, stamping with his foot. "Who commands this garrison?"
" Sir Ienry Lee of Ditchley," answered the old knight, stepping forward;
"who, having no other garrison than two weak women, is compelled to
submit to what he would willingly have resisted."
"Disarm the inveterate and malignant rebel," cried Oliver. "Art thou
not ashamed, sir, to detain me before the door of a house which you had no
force to defend? Wearest thou so white a beard, and knowest thou not,
that to refuse surrendering an indefensible post, by the martial law, deserves.
hanging?"
" My beard and I," said Sir Henry, "have settled that matter between
us, and agree right cordially. It is better to run the risk of being hanged,
like honest men, than to give up our trust like cowards and traitors."
"Ha! say'st thou?" said Cromwell; "thou hast powerful motives, I
doubt not, for running thy head into a noose. But I will speak with thee
by and by.-Ho! Pearson, Gilbert Pearson, take this scroll-Take the elder
woman with thee-Let her guide you to the various places therein mentioned
Y2