k and swear according to our degree?"

The lady was silent, for she well knew speech availed nothing; and,
after a moment's pause, proceeded to intimate to the steward that she
would have the persons, whose names were marked in a written paper,
which she delivered to him, invited to the approaching banquet.

Whitaker, instead of receiving the list with the mute acquiescence of
a modern Major Domo, carried it into the recess of one of the windows,
and, adjusting his spectacles, began to read it to himself. The
first names, being those of distinguished Cavalier families in the
neighbourhood, he muttered over in a tone of approbation--paused and
pshawed at that of Bridgenorth--yet acquiesced, with the observation,
"But he is a good neighbour, so it may pass for once." But when he read
the name and surname of Nehemiah Solsgrace, the Presbyterian parson,
Whitaker's patience altogether forsook him; and he declared he would as
soon throw himself into Eldon-hole,[*] as consent that the intrusive old
puritan howlet, who had usurped the pulpit of a sound orthodox divine,
should ever darken the gates of Martindale Castle by any message or
mediation of his.

[*] A chasm in the earth supposed to be unfathomable, one of the
wonders of the Peak.

"The false crop-eared hypocrites," cried he, with a hearty oath, "have
had their turn of the good weather. The sun is on our side of the hedge
now, and we will pay off old scores, as sure as my name is Richard
Whitaker."

"You presume on your long services, Whitaker, and on your master's
absence, or you had not dared to use me thus," said the lady.

The unwonted agitation of her voice attracted the attention of the
refractory steward, notwithstanding his present state of elevation; but
he no sooner saw that her eye glistened, and her cheek reddened, than
his obstinacy was at once subdued.

"A murrain on me," he said, "but I have made my lady angry in good
earnest! and that is an unwonted sight for to see.--I crave your
pardon, my lady! It was not poor Dick Whitaker disputed your honourable
commands, but only that second draught of double ale. We have put a
double stroke of malt to it, as your ladyship well knows, ever since the
happy Restoration. To be sure I hate a fanatic as I do the cloven foot
of Satan; but then your honourable ladyship hath a right to invite Satan
himself, cloven foot and all, to Martindale Castle; and to send me
to hell's gate with a billet of invitation--an