That night Calantha slept not; but she watched for the approaching morrow. It came:—Glenarvon came, as he had promised: he asked permission to see her one moment alone: he was not denied. He entered, and chided her for her tears; then pressing her to his bosom, he inquired if she really thought that he would leave her: “What now—now that we are united by every tie; that every secret of my soul is yours? Look at me, thou dear one: look again upon your master, and never acknowledge another.” “God bless and protect you,” she answered. “Thanks, sweet, for your prayer; but the kiss I have snatched from your lips is sweeter far for me. Oh, for another, given thus warm from the heart! It has entranced—it has made me mad. What fire burns in your eye? What ecstasy is it thus to call you mine? Oh, tear from your mind every remaining scruple!—shrink not. The fatal plunge into guilt is taken: what matter how deep the fall. You weep, love; and for what? Once you were pure and spotless; and then, indeed, was the time for tears; but now that fierce passions have betrayed you—now that every principle is renounced, and every feeling perverted, let us enjoy the fruits of guilt. “They talk to us of parting:—we will not part. Though contempt may brand my name, I will return and tear thee from them when the time is fit; and you shall drink deep of the draught of joy, though death and ignominy may be mingled with it. Let them see you again—let the ties strengthen that I have broken. That which has strayed from the flock, will become even dearer than before; and when most dear, most prized: a second time I will return, and a second time break through every tie, every resolve. Dost shudder, sweet one? To whom are you united? Remember the oaths—the ring; and however estranged—whatever you may hear, remember that you belong to me, to me alone. And even,” continued he, smiling with malicious triumph, “even though the gallant soldier, the once loved Avondale return, can he find again the heart he has lost? If he clasp thee thus, ’tis but a shadow he can attempt to bind. The heart, the soul, are mine. O! Calantha, you know not what you feel, nor half what you would feel, were I in reality to leave you. There’s a fire burns in thee, fierce as in myself: you are bound to me now; fear neither man nor God. I will return and claim you.” As he spoke, he placed around her neck a chain of gold, with a locket of diamonds, containing his hair; saying as he fastened it: “Remember the ring: this, too, is a marriage bond between us;” and, kneeling solemnly, “I call your God,” said he, “I call him now to witness, while that I breathe, I will consider you as my wife, my mistress; the friend of my best affections. Never, Calantha, will I abandon, or forget thee:—never, by Heaven! shalt thou regret thy attachment or my own.”