“Detestable, revolting, abhorrent, odious! Oh! that you should dare to hint such a humiliation to me! I can never forgive you for it, Colonel de Crespigney! I feel more, much more than offended! I feel insulted, dishonored, humiliated! I do!” cried Gloria, vehemently. But in all her indignation there was no scorn of David Lindsay, or of his humble calling; for in her innocent and loyal way she loved and respected her old playmate, even as she did his aged relative on the islet. It was the hypothesis of “an objectionable attachment” and “an improper marriage” at which she revolted. And if, instead of a poor, uncultivated young fisherman, the most accomplished prince on earth had been in question, she would have felt equally offended. They had now reached the steps leading up to the portico of the front door. Colonel de Crespigney paused there, and with his hand resting on one of the iron posts, he inquired: “Well, shall I give the orders you requested me to issue? Shall I say that the young fisherman must be admitted to your presence whenever he may come here and ask to see you?” “No! On your soul!” impetuously answered the girl. “No! You have killed David Lindsay! You have murdered the harmless playmate of my happy childhood! I shall never, never see him more! He is dead and buried!” “‘_Requiescat in pace_,’” replied the colonel solemnly, lifting his hat. Gloria passed him, opened the front door, and fled up into the safety of her room. Her “intuitions” warned the motherless child to avoid a _tête-à-tête_ with Colonel de Crespigney. CHAPTER XII HOPELESS LOVE He deemed that time, he deemed that pride Had quenched, at length, his boyish flame, Nor knew, till seated by her side, His heart in all save hope the same. BYRON. Meanwhile David Lindsay had returned to his grandmother’s cottage, his soul filled with the image of the lovely girl he had just landed on the promontory.