--Bore not the Knight a holly-bough
on his helmet?--Canst thou not remember?"
"Oh, remember--remember," said the old man pettishly; "count as many
years as I do, if your plots will let you, and see what, and how much,
you remember.--Why, I scarce remember the pear-mains which I graffed
here with my own hands some fifty years since."
At this moment a bugle sounded loudly from the beach.
"It is the death-blast to Queen Mary's royalty," said Ambrosius; "the
English warden's answer has been received, favourable doubtless, for
when was the door of the trap closed against the prey which it was set
for?--Droop not, Roland--this matter shall be sifted to the
bottom--but we must not now leave the Queen--follow me--let us do our
duty, and trust the issue with God--Farewell, good Father--I will
visit thee again soon."
He was about to leave the garden, followed by Roland, with
half-reluctant steps. The Ex-Abbot resumed his spade.
"I could be sorry for these men," he said, "ay, and for that poor
Queen, but what avail earthly sorrows to a man of fourscore?--and it
is a rare dropping morning for the early colewort."
"He is stricken with age," said Ambrosius, as he dragged Roland down
to the sea-beach; "we must let him take his time to collect
himself--nothing now can be thought on but the fate of the Queen."
They soon arrived where she stood, surrounded by her little train, and
by her side the sheriff of Cumberland, a gentleman of the house of
Lowther, richly dressed and accompanied by soldiers.
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