of the once fierce and haughty
Luke, now stiff and stark, but still wearing, even in death, their proud
character, were placed upon the self-same bier, and covered with the
self-same pall which, but a week ago, had furnished forth his father's
funeral. And as the domestics crowded round the corpse, there was not
one of them but commented upon his startling resemblance to his
grandsire, Sir Reginald; nor, amongst the superstitious, was the falling
of the fatal bough forgotten.

Tranquillity was at length restored at the hall. Throughout the night
and during the next day, Ranulph made every search for his mother, but
no tidings could be learned of her. Seriously alarmed, he then caused
more strict and general inquiry to be instituted, but with like
unsuccessful effect. It was not, indeed, till some years afterwards that
her fate was ascertained.

_CHAPTER V_

_THE SARCOPHAGUS_

So now 'tis ended, like an old wife's story.--WEBSTER.

Notwithstanding the obscurity which hung over the fate of Lady Rookwood,
the celebration of the nuptials of Sir Ranulph and Eleanor was not long
delayed; the ceremony took place at the parish church, and the worthy
vicar officiated upon the occasion. It was a joyous sight to all who
witnessed it, and not few were they who did so, for the whole
neighborhood was bidden to the festival. The old avenue was thronged
with bright and beaming faces, rustic maidens decked out in ribbons of
many-colored splendor, and stout youths in their best holiday trim; nor
was the lusty yeoman and his buxom spouse--nor yet the patriarch of the
village, nor prattling child, wanting. Even the ancestral rooks seemed
to participate in the universal merriment, and returned, from their
eyries, a hoarse greeting, like a lusty chorus of laughter, to the
frolic train. The churchyard path was strewn with flowers--the church
itself a complete garland. Never was there seen a blither wedding: the
sun smiled upon the bride--accounted a fortunate omen, as dark lowering
skies and stormy weather had, within the memory of the oldest of the
tenantry, inauspiciously ushered in all former espousals. The bride had
recovered her bloom and beauty, while the melancholy which had seemingly
settled for ever upon the open brow of the bridegroom, had now given
place to a pensive shade that only added interest to his expressive
features; and, as in simple state, after the completion of the sacred
rites, the youthful pair walk