“There is your way. Young man, I trust to your honour, therefore you remain unshackled to die.” Already the soldiers were drawn out before the castle. The five musketeers who were commissioned to carry the sentence into execution stood in advance, their muskets in hand. Montressor took his place. “Kneel,” said Cromwell. “Yes, to heaven,” was the reply. “Stay,” exclaimed the general, as he rushed forth in a burst of tenderness. The condemned youth started joyfully up. Hope was kindled. “Young man, I love thee as a son. Take my embrace,” and he threw his arms around Montressor. “Look--for no other but you, a dying man, must see Cromwell weep!--Look at these tears. Now, my son. Yes, my very son, farewell!” Montressor sunk upon his knees in despair. He waved his hand to the musketeers, and soon their duty was performed. Cromwell himself raised the lifeless body, and sternly said to the soldiers, “Let all, let each beware! Justice and duty are unrelenting, even to the brave and the beloved!” * * * * * Well did the governor perform his pledge. The fatal news were communicated to Mary Evelyn by Madeline Bradley, who, heart-broken herself, knew how to feel for a sister sufferer. Sir Robert’s mansion was the orphan’s home. She and Madeline took short walks together, sat together in the same easy chair, and slept together. Hand in hand they were bound for the tomb, and the foot of the one seemed not to be before that of the other. The governor, every day, (for he had no longer the charge of the castle,) came, and conversed with her, whose father he had been the innocent cause of betraying to death. His son attached himself to the company of Sarah Bradley. The heart-broken sufferers, saw their mutual affection, and kindly fostered it. Often too, did the worthy miller and his wife make their appearance, and they were always welcome. It was near midnight, and Madeline and Mary were alone in their apartment. They lay in each other’s arms, gazing, at times, involuntarily upon the white counterpane, on which the moonshine fell. They spoke not, but the gentle and low breathing assured them, that they had pined away together, and were now almost spent, and ready to go. “Madeline, sweet Madeline,” said Mary, “Sarah will be a bride, in a month--we shall both be brides in a few hours, nay, in a few minutes. Let us be calm, for soon we meet our lovers.” “Yes, my Mary, kiss me! We need not call for my father and Sarah. We are very happy alone. Another sigh, and all will be over. Kiss me again.” “Yes, Madeline,” and a gentle breeze came in at the casement, and a sweet ray of the moon came to these gentler and sweeter faces--but the maidens were no more! We may mention, that, in a few days after the siege, Cromwell left Lancaster Castle in the charge of a part of his troops. Soon, however, it was recaptured by the exertions of the gallant Earl of Derby. * * * * *