The birthday was come, and everything was ready. The wall was all
complete which protected the raised village road against the water, and
so was the walk; passing the church, for a short time it followed the
path which had been laid out by Charlotte, and then winding upward among
the rocks, inclined first under the summer-house to the right, and then,
after a wide sweep, passed back above it to the right again, and so by
degrees out on to the summit. A large party had assembled for the
occasion. They went first to church, where they found the whole
congregation assembled in their holiday dresses. After service, they
filed out in order; first the boys, then the young men, then the old;
after them came the party from the castle, with their visitors and
retinue; and the village maidens, young girls, and women, brought up the
rear.

At the turn of the walk, a raised stone seat had been contrived, where
the Captain made Charlotte and the visitors stop and rest. From here
they could see over the whole distance from the beginning to the
end--the troops of men who had gone up before them, the file of women
following, and now drawing up to where they were. It was lovely weather,
and the whole effect was singularly beautiful. Charlotte was taken by
surprise, she was touched, and she pressed the Captain's hand warmly.

They followed the crowd who had slowly ascended, and were now forming a
circle round the spot where the future house was to stand. The lord of
the castle, his family, and the principal strangers were now invited to
descend into the vault, where the foundation-stone, supported on one
side, lay ready to be let down. A well-dressed mason, a trowel in one
hand and a hammer in the other, came forward, and with much grace spoke
an address in verse, of which in prose we can give but an imperfect
rendering.