In short, he saw the waving of her screen, or veil,
at one corner, heard the tap of her foot, light as that was, as it
crossed the court, and caught a glimpse of her figure just as she
entered the door of the mansion.
Roland Graeme, inconsiderate and headlong as we have described him,
having no knowledge of real life but from the romances which he had
read, and not an idea of checking himself in the midst of any eager
impulse; possessed, besides, of much courage and readiness, never
hesitated for a moment to approach the door through which the object
of his search had disappeared. He, too, pulled the bobbin, and the
latch, though heavy and massive, answered to the summons, and arose.
The page entered with the same precipitation which had marked his
whole proceeding, and found himself in a large hall, or vestibule,
dimly enlightened by latticed casements of painted glass, and rendered
yet dimmer through the exclusion of the sunbeams, owing to the height
of the walls of those buildings by which the court-yard was enclosed.
The walls of the hall were surrounded with suits of ancient and rusted
armour, interchanged with huge and massive stone scutcheons, bearing
double tressures, fleured and counter-fleured, wheat-sheaves,
coronets, and so forth, things to which Roland Graeme gave not a
moment's attention.
In fact, he only deigned to observe the figure of Catherine Seyton,
who, deeming herself safe in the hall, had stopped to take breath
after her course, and was reposing herself for a moment on a large
oaken settle which stood at the upper end of the hall.
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