"Tush! we have nothing to fear," carelessly replied Sir William Howe. "There can be no worse treason in the matter than a jest, and that somewhat of the dullest. Even were it a sharp and bitter one, our best policy would be to laugh it off. See, here come more of these gentry."
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Another group of
characters had now
partly descended the
staircase. The first
was a venerable and
white-bearded patriarch,
who cautiously
felt his way downward
with a staff. Treading
hastily behind
him, and stretching forth his gauntleted
hand as if to grasp the old
man's shoulder, came a tall, soldier-*like
figure, equipped with a plumed
cap of steel, a bright breastplate,
and a long sword, which rattled against the stairs. Next was
seen a stout man, dressed in rich and courtly attire, but not of
courtly demeanor; his gait had the swinging motion of a seaman's
walk; and chancing to stumble on the staircase, he sud-
