er-hour; and much was the bustle in
consequence of the annunciation. The Lord Keeper traversed the chambers,
held consultation with the butler in the cellars, and even ventured, at
the risk of a demele with a cook of a spirit lofty enough to scorn the
admonitions of Lady Ashton herself, to peep into the kitchen. Satisfied,
at length, that everything was in as active a train of preparation as
was possible, he summoned Ravenswood and his daughter to walk upon the
terrace, for the purpose of watching, from that commanding position,
the earliest symptoms of his lordship's approach. For this purpose, with
slow and idle step, he paraded the terrace, which, flanked with a heavy
stone battlement, stretched in front of the castle upon a level with the
first story; while visitors found access to the court by a projecting
gateway, the bartizan or flat-leaded roof of which was accessible from
the terrace by an easy flight of low and broad steps. The whole bore a
resemblance partly to a castle, partly to a nobleman's seat; and though
calculated, in some respects, for defence, evinced that it had been
constructed under a sense of the power and security of the ancient Lords
of Ravenswood.

This pleasant walk commanded a beautiful and extensive view. But what
was most to our present purpose, there were seen from the terrace two
roads, one leading from the east, and one from the westward, which,
crossing a ridge opposed to the eminence on which the castle stood, at
different angles, gradually approached each other, until they joined not
far from the gate of the avenue. It was to the westward approach that
the Lord Keeper, from a sort of fidgeting anxiety, his daughter, from
complaisance to him, and Ravenswood, though feeling some symptoms of
internal impatience, out of complaisance to his daughter, directed their
eyes to see the precursors of the Marquis's approach.

These were not long of presenting themselves. Two running footmen,
dressed in white, with black jockey-caps, and long staffs in their
hands, headed the train; and such was their agility, that they found
no difficulty in keeping the necessary advance, which the etiquette of
their station required, before the carriage and horsemen. Onward
they came at a long swinging trot, arguing unwearied speed in their
long-breathed calling. Such running footmen are often alluded to in old
plays (I would particularly instance Middleton's Mad World, my Masters),
and perhaps may be still re