THE BROKEN FONT.
A
STORY OF THE CIVIL WAR.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
PRINTED FOR
LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, GREEN, & LONGMAN,
PATERNOSTER-ROW.
1836.
THE BROKEN FONT.
CHAPTER I.
The noble spirit of Katharine Heywood was severely exercised by thosedisclosures of Jane Lambert which have been related in a formerchapter.
She regretted, too late, that she had ever asked that true-heartedgirl to perform an office so difficult in itself, and which hadproved, in its consequences, so hazardous to her reputation and herpeace. The chance of such a misfortune as that which had befallen Janenever remotely presented itself to her mind at the moment when shemade the request, yet she[Pg 1]
[Pg 2] could not but feel compunction as shereflected on the trouble to which the generous constancy of a delicatemind had subjected her affectionate friend. One slight reparation wasin her power. It became her plain duty to undeceive the mind of Juxonon the subject; and the thought that she should be thus instrumentalin bringing together two fine characters, formed for each other, madeall selfish considerations about her own sorrow, and every pang whichher maidenly pride must suffer, vanish before that proper resolution.
No opportunity of speaking in private with Juxon occurred on theevening of Jane’s disclosure to Katharine, nor did any offer itselfuntil the arrival of her young cousin Arthur from Oxford. It was amournful trial to Katharine to observe the high and joyous spirits ofthe ardent youth, as he embraced and thanked Sir Oliver for accedingto his request. The silent house became suddenly full of cheerfulechoes as the brave boy passed to and fro on its oaken staircase andalong the pleasant gallery, singing snatches of loyal songs, or makinghis[Pg 3] spurs jingle as he ran. All his preparations for the solemn workof war were made with a light heart, and with little or noconsideration that fellow-countrymen were to be his enemies. Suchlittle sympathy as the boy once felt for the tortured Prynne existedno longer for any one of that party, which he had learned to look uponas traitors.
One would have thought that he was volunteering in a foreignexpedition, by his gay-hearted alacrity in getting ready.
“Cousin Kate,” said he, turning towards her as they sat at breakfastin the hall, “you must make us a couple of King’s rosettes,—and Ihope you have both of you,” he added, looking at Jane Lambert, “nearlyfinished embroidering the small standard for our troop:—you havelaughed at me, and called me boy, Jane; but when I bring you back yourown embroidery, stained with the blood of traitors, you shall rewardme as a man.”
“I am not so very blood-thirsty, Arthur,” said Jane Lambert, “as towish it shed to do honour to my embroidery; and if I see you[Pg 4] comesafe back with yo