Kate’s oddly-assorted brain had not failed to run a-rambling at times after the gallant stranger.  He had heard much of her beauty, and likewise of her uncertain humours.  Each fancied the opposite party impregnable; and this alone, if none other motive had arisen, formed a sufficiently strong temptation to begin the attack.  Kate was particularly punctual at church, and once or twice he caught an equivocating glance towards the warden’s seat, and he really did at times fancy he should like to play at “taming the shrew.”  Kate was sure the stranger slighted her.  He treated her, and her only, with an air of neglect she could not altogether account for, and she was in month’s mind to make the young cavalier crouch at her feet.  How this was to be contrived could only be guessed at by a woman, and we will not let the reader into all the secrets of Kate’s sanctuary.  Suffice it to say, that in so harmlessly attempting to beguile her prey into the snare, the lady fell over head and ears into it herself.  In a word Kate was in love!  And this was the more grievous, inasmuch as her lofty bearing hitherto would not allow her to whisper the matter even to her own bosom; and the pent-up and smothering flame was making sad havoc with poor Kate’s repose.

She had ofttimes suspected the state of her heart; but instead of sighing, pining, and twanging her guitar to love-sick ditties, she would fly into so violent a rage at her own folly that nothing might quell the disturbance until fairly worn out by its own vehemency.  No one suspected the truth—­yes, one forsooth—­gentle reader, canst thou guess?  It was no less a personage than our one-shouldered friend Timothy Dodge!  How the cunning rogue had contrived to get at the secret is more than we dare tell.  Sure enough he had it; and as certain too that another should be privy to the fact—­to wit, Edward Kelly the seer.  Dodge was a fitting tool for this intriguer, and well able to help him out at a pinch.

Affairs were in this position when our story commenced.  Rodolf had formidable auxiliaries at hand, had he been disposed to make the attack; but his stay was now short—­Kate was petulant and perverse—­the siege might be tedious.  Just on the verge of relinquishing he met Kate, as we have before seen, going to church.  He caught her for the once completely off her guard, and the rich blush that ensued set a crowd of odd fancies jingling through his brain.  It was just as the old chimes were ringing their doleful chant from the steeple, but these hindered not a whit the other changes that were set agoing.  Not aware of the alteration in his course, he was much amazed when he found himself striding somewhat irreverently down the great aisle of the church, towards the choir, from whence the low chanting of the psalms announced that service was already begun.

It was the opening of a bright autumnal day.  The softened lights streamed playfully athwart the grim and shadowy masses that lay on the chequered pavement, like the smiles of infancy sporting on the dark bosom of the tomb.  The screen formed a rich foreground, in half-shadow, before the east window.  The first beam of the morning, clothed in tenfold brightness, burst through the variegated tracery.  Prophets, saints, and martyrs shone there, gloriously portrayed in heaven’s own light.