“I call you to witness, Dr. Tiernay,” said Hoare, whose accents trembled with fear and anger together, “that this is a case of false imprisonment,--that a threat against my life has been uttered, if I do not surrender the possession of certain papers.” “Nothing of the kind,” broke in Tiernay; “there is no thought of taking anything from you by force. Mr. Roland Cashel--doubtless for good reasons of his own--has asked you a question, which you, demurring to answer, he tells you that you shall not leave the room till you do.” “And do you fancy, sir, that such conduct is legal?” cried Hoare. “I cannot say,” rejoined Tiernay; “but that it is far more mild and merciful than I could have expected under the circumstances, I am perfectly ready to aver.” “May I read the paper out?” said Hoare, with a malicious scowl at Cashel. “There is no need that you should, sir,” said Roland; “its contents are known to me, whom alone they concern.” “You can, I opine, have no objection that your friend, Dr. Tiernay, should hear them?” “I repeat, sir, that with the contents of that paper neither you nor any one else has any concern; they relate to me, and to me alone.” “Then I must labor under some misapprehension,” said Hoare, affectedly; “I had fancied there was another person at least equally interested.” “Will you dare, sir!” said Roland; and in the thick guttural utterance there was that which made the other tremble with fear. “If the matter be one, then,” said he, rallying into his former assurance, “that you deem best kept secret, it would be perhaps a judicious preliminary to any conversation on the subject, that Dr. Tiernay should withdraw.” “I only await Mr. Cashel's pleasure,” said Tiernay, moving towards the door. “Then you will remain, sir,” said Roland, firmly. “Remain, and listen to what this gentleman has so menacingly alluded. Here it is: it is the promise, given under my hand, that I will espouse the daughter of a certain Don Pedro Rica, to whom, in the date herein annexed, I have been this day betrothed; or, in forfeiture of such pledge, pay down the sum of seventy thousand dollars, thereby obtaining a full release from the conditions of the contract. It was the rash pledge of a young and thoughtless boy, with regard to one who neither accepted his affection nor acknowledged the contract. I do not say this to absolve myself from the forfeiture, which I am ready to acquit this hour; I speak of it, that, as a man of honor, I may not seem to pay a debt of feeling by a check on my banker.” “But this betrothal,” said Tiernay,--“what does it imply?” “It is a ceremony common enough in Old Spain and her once colonies, and is simply the recognition of a private promise of marriage.” “You have forgotten two circumstances, sir,” said Hoare, whose eyes never quitted Cashel's face. “Which are they?” “One is, that this contract should be either fulfilled, or the forfeit paid, within two years,--twenty-one months of which have already expired.”