"Too earnest kindness may be mistaken for persecution when the mind is resolved to see nothing good in the profferer of it. But I have surely satisfied you of my respect since I have so long left your privacy undisturbed, when the opportunity of place and power might have enabled me to press my suit with advantage."

"I own you have shown me the consideration which a hunter shows a caged bird; he does not kill it immediately, because he knows that he can do so whenever the humour takes him, and therefore waits to see how tame it may become."

"That may be as you say; but even now I would not have sought to hasten the union which is still so hateful to you, were it not that events, which drive me and stronger men before them, render further delay impossible."

"What would you have?" she asked, in that cold uninterested voice, as if the conversation concerned some other person, and not herself.

"Your free submission to the King's command."

"The condemned submit to their fate because it is unavoidable; they cannot be expected to submit freely."

66 But yours is not the fate of the condemned. Position and wealth are offered to you with the hand of one who will at least endeavour to insure your happiness. Are you still obstinate? Do you still refuse?

"Have I the option of refusal ?" she said, rousing from her torpor with a flash of scorn. "Oh, sir, it is a poor exertion of your strength over my helpless condition, to mock me with a hollow show of liberty. You have deprived me of every hope that could have made liberty precious; you have used all the force of the King's authority and of your own cunning to compel my obedience to your will. Why pretend, then, to consult my inclination, when you know that I must always look upon you with abhorrence as the cause of all my wretchedness?

Cochrane folded his hands and cast his eyes gloomily upon the floor.

"I desired to consult your pleasure, madam," he said, reflectively, "in the faint hope that time might have softened the harshness of your judgment of me. But your repugnance appears to be now as strong as ever. nothing reconcile you to me?"

Will

He eyed her from beneath his heavy brows with evident uneasiness as he waited her reply.

"The vulture and the dove may be reconciled, the wolf and the lamb may become mates, but I tell you, my lord, that my regard for you can never change."

"Think, madam, of the high place you will hold as Countess of Mar," he urged.

"That which is not desired can give no satisfaction to the possessor."

"Think, again, of the power you may command to aid your kinsfolk. Think of the wealth which will be yours to satisfy every wish or whim, to help and cheer the forlorn, or to crush your enemy."

"Why press these arguments upon me, my lord?" she rejoined, weariedly. "When hope is dead, what is there the world holds that can give joy? I have no humour to help others when I am so sick of all that surrounds me. The thought that I might crush my enemy does quicken my pulse, but the only enemy I would crush is yourself."

He rested his back against the wall, folded his arms, and bowed his head, brooding darkly.

She stood before him, white and passionless as marble, indifferent, it might have seemed, as to the result of his meditations.

"I perceive," he said at length, with some chagrin, "that I have erred in prosecuting this suit. It would have been wiser to have left you to follow your own course."

"Ah, sir, it would have been well for all of us had you discovered that earlier," she ejaculated, not without a shade of pity for the potent statesman in his admission of weakness, although all his power and influence had failed to elicit any sentiment save that of scorn.

"No man is clear-eyed when his passion stirs him," he commented, moodily. "At first I admired you, and desired the allegiance of your kinsmen to help me in leaguing the Borderers together as a force to act in my behalf, and to protect me against the envious barons who desire my fall. I own it freely now-it was policy rather than affection which first attracted me to you. But your opposition and the disgrace which your flight on our bridal day seemed to cast on me, roused a passion which blinded me. The desire to win you-ay, win you for your own

sake-and the resolution to requite the insult Gordon had put upon me became stronger than all thought of policy. No woman has been sought with devotion so steady as mine."

"And no woman could have desired it less."

"Would that I had comprehended that months ago, as I do now. But is it too late to better the ill-fortune which has fallen to us both? Am I so deformed-so hideous in your eyes-that you must always shrink from me with loathing?"

"I have answered

you, my lord."

"It cannot be that you still hope to mate with Gordon?" He bent forward, and the mild, almost contrite tone in which he had been speaking, gave place to his ordinary cold, harsh manner, under the suspicion which prompted his inquiry.

"Alas! no; you have deprived me of that hope and all others. My brother's blood is on his hands, and we have parted."

"Yet the first use you made of your release from con

straint was to endeavour to communicate with him."

She started in alarm, at once divining that her message had miscarried.

"You know that?"

He bowed with a malicious smile.

"I know all. Your messenger was arrested as he quitted you. The knave has consented to betray his master into our hands, and he is already on the way with a strong body of troopers to arrest him."

She staggered back, horrified by the thought that in her desire to save Nicol she had been the instrument of betraying Lamington.

66 But you will not be so fell a monster as to take advantage of this treachery!" she exclaimed, piteously. "Vengeance is pleasant, madam, and you leave nothing else to satisfy me," he answered, drily.

"Beware, my lord, beware," she cried, with passionate emphasis, "for I too may be roused to seek a similar satisfaction."

"That I will be prepared to meet," he proceeded, placidly; "in the mean while, I have promised to deliver Gordon to your brother Nicol; if he fails to wreak his will

upon him, then this rebellious gallant falls to my care, and I pledge you all that I have won, he will not escape me a second time, even with your aid.

66

Mercy!"

It was a cry of utter despair wrung from her agony. She fell upon her knees, wildly extending her hands to him-the man she loathed and scorned-pleading to him for mercy. Nicol and Gordon were to be brought together, were to be forced to combat, both were to fall, and she would be the cause. The terrible discovery that the design she had formed to save them had become the means of destroying both, appalled her. She forgot her hate, forgot that it was the subtle skill of this man which had wrought out her generous design to so dire an issue; she remembered only that he had the power to rescue the victims of her love and of his enmity.

"Mercy, mercy!" she cried, wildly. "For the dear Virgin's sake, spare them-spare me the thought that I have been the cause of more bloodshed. Oh, merciful Father, look down and move this man's cruel heart."

her.

"Calm yourself, madam," he said, attempting to raise

She went on unheeding.

"It was this meeting that has haunted me-it was to avert it to warn Gordon to avoid it for his soul's sake and for mine, that I schemed and plotted to communicate with him, and you have turned my scheme into the engine of your vengeance. Oh, you are powerful, sir-how powerful I have never known till now; but show a little mercy to one who lies so helpless at your feet."

He grasped her hands tightly, and bent over her with excited eyes.

"When you wrote to Gordon, was it only to bid him avoid your brother, and the encounter he seeks ? "

"No more."

"You did not wish to escape to him?"

"No."

"Were you both free to choose now, would you accept his hand?'

66 I dare not."

"Then rise, madam, for one word from you will assure Lamington's safety from my pursuit, and will obtain my

pledge that Nicol shall never come within bowshot of him. Nay, you have only to speak that word, and Nicol shall renounce the feud."

She lifted her affrighted face to the dark visage which hovered over her. Shuddering as with cold, she spoke"And that word ?"

"Promise that on the day appointed by his Majesty you will, without demur or opposition, become the Countess of Mar."

She uttered a low, sharp cry of anguish, and would have sunk to the ground had he not sustained her. She was incapable of speech, so fiercely were the emotions of hate and love contending in her breast.

"Why should you hesitate? he urged; "you have confessed that union with Lamington is impossible; his life, and belike your brother's, hang on your decision. Will you refuse to save them ? "

"Will no other sacrifice content you ?" she said, feebly, and still shuddering.

"None."

"You are implacable ?"

"As implacable in my love as you can be in your hate. Speak; and bid them live or perish."

"Heaven help me too many brave hearts have been already stricken down on my account."

"Say, then, that you will spare those in present danger. I am the suppliant now, and pray you for mercy."

She rose slowly to her feet, a deathly pallor on her face; the cruelty which made her the dispenser of life or death to those she loved was another source of aversion to her relentless persecutor.

66

Spare them," she gasped, scarcely able to speak above her breath-" spare them. Do with me as you will." 66 You consent ? "

"To anything for their sakes. Heaven knows I hold my life too worthless to be balanced against their safety.'

"You have saved them," he cried, exultantly; "and trust me, madam, you shall have no reason to relent this determination. Devotion can do much, and my devotion shall be so earnest, that by-and-by you shall learn to be content even with my presence.'

She inclined her head mutely, unable to make any

X