At that moment, however, the lover felt his hand touched, and detained gently by Mary, so he held out the sinister one to the tailor. “Ready, quite ready, Gideon. I shall return with you safe again. Fear not; you shall not lose Mrs. Chiselwig, nor,” he added in a whisper to his beautiful companion, “shall I lose Mary Mauncel.” “Is the night calm?” meekly inquired Nelly, who had some thoughts of accompanying her husband. “Beautiful and clear,” was the reply. “The snow is glistening in the moon’s rays, and not a breath of wind awakes it.” “Beautiful it is,” added Mary, in a low voice to William, “but for ghosts, devils, and your folly. How much happier should we have been together, in the garden.” Jeremiah’s very acute ear had distinguished these words. “Ah! my young lady, the open field, where we are to meet the enemy, is much more romantic than a garden; and you must be happier there, as the shelter is better. The devil had fled without a place of meeting being definitely assigned, but I had courage enough to recall him, and then we agreed upon a spot of ground to the right of Aughton Moss, and in the direction of Cleives Hills. Garden? No, no, for were I concealed behind a bush, even in the presence of your father, the enemy might ask him to bestow the little bird that was in such a bush, and his reverence, not knowing, might comply, and I should then be caged. All must be open and exposed.” “No more,” exclaimed Gideon in agony, after he had returned from the door, where, for the last minute he had been gazing upon the moon, “no more must I see thy light, after a few short hours. Ha! and the candle too. But let me try how I can do without it,” and he immediately extinguished it. “Horrible darkness; and then I must for ever put on and take off my clothes, and shave and wash myself with liquid fire, and eat without a light; yes, eat brimstone and tempest, without having a candle to shew the mouth. Hush, hush, I hear some fiend eating. His lips smack.” Gideon was not wrong in one part of his conjectures, for Mary’s lover, taking advantage of the light being extinguished, was attempting to console and pacify her by whispers and kisses. The clock now struck the hour of eleven, and Nelly lighted the candle, to prepare the last supper for her husband. Not a word was spoken. Every countenance was fixed upon the miserable pair. Every little noise startled them, and then again they were immovable, as gloomy pictures. The candle flame turned blue. The chimney looked darker and darker. Shadows flitted upon the wall, in formidable guise. At length the parson’s nephew proposed that Miss Mauncel, rather than return to her father, should keep poor Nelly company in their absence.