Chapter 30

A vow, a vow--I have a vow in Heaven.
Shall I bring perjury upon my soul?
No, not for Venice.
MERCHANT OF VENICE.

The conclusion of the last chapter contains the tidings with which
the minstrel greeted his unhappy master, Hugo de Lacy; not indeed
with the same detail of circumstances with which we have been able
to invest the narrative, but so as to infer the general and
appalling facts, that his betrothed bride, and beloved and trusted
kinsman, had leagued together for his dishonour--had raised the
banner of rebellion against their lawful sovereign, and, failing
in their audacious attempt, had brought the life of one of them,
at least, into the most imminent danger, and the fortunes of the
House of Lacy, unless some instant remedy could be found, to the
very verge of ruin.

Vidal marked the countenance of his master as he spoke, with the
same keen observation which the chirurgeon gives to the progress
of his dissecting-knife. There was grief on the Constable's
features--deep grief--but without the expression of abasement or
prostration which usually accompanies it; anger and shame were
there--but they were both of a noble character, seemingly excited
by his bride and nephew's transgressing the laws of allegiance,
honour, and virtue, rather than by the disgrace and damage which
he himself sustained through their crime.

The minstrel was so much astonished at this change of deportment,
from the sensitive acuteness of agony which attended the beginning
of his narrative, that he stepped back two paces, and gazing on
the Constable with wonder, mixed with admiration, exclaimed, "We
have heard of martyrs in. Palestine, but this exceeds them!"

"Wonder not so much, good friend," said the Constable, patiently;
"it is the first blow of the lance or mace which pierces or stuns
--those which follow are little felt." [Footnote: Such an
expression is said to have been used by Mandrin, the celebrated
smuggler, while in the act of being broken upon the wheel. This
dreadful punishment consists in the executioner, with a bar of
iron, breaking the shoulder-bones, arms, thigh-bones, and legs of
the criminal, taking--his alternate sides. The punishment is
concluded by a blow across the breast, called the _coup de
grace_, because it removes the sufferer from his agony. When
Mandrin received the second blow over the left shoulder-bone, he
laughed. His confessor inquired the reason of demeanour so
unbecoming--his situation. "I only lavish at my own folly, my
father," answered Mandrin, "who could suppose that sensibility of
pain should continue after the nervous system had been completely
deranged by the first blow.]

"Think, my