“Good! Were I thee, I would wait, and be joyful. Thou art rich; with gold man can do all things; and I have given thee gold.” “Verily.” “Be happy--feast--sin! Thou art young, there is time to repent--_time to repent_! (He smileth; his eyes brighten; he is lost.) Go, good Raimbault, Alice will follow thee; she may be thy slave. Go, go!” The minstrel, weak and maimed with evil thoughts, went away stumbling in the darkness. Then the smile passed away from Bertram’s face--there was only to be read in it terrible despair battling with small hope! As a faint, warning, unearthly sound swept through the air, he trembled; and then he muttered that he had gained another soul! That he should have mercy shown him--mercy to him, the ambassador! Again the wild cry swept through the air, and Bertram’s head fell. Clasping his hands together, he moved slowly into a deep lightless cavern, and was lost in the darkness. Treading lightly through the moonlight then came Alice, to meet Raimbault, who was surely waiting for her--surely. “Raimbault--Raimbault!” No answer. “When I bade Normandy adieu, Thus said a hermit sage to me, Damsel, to one beloved and true, Thou shalt e’er long united be. Raimbault--Raimbault!” The wild, wailing cry swept past her very lips as she ended her little ditty. As she heard it she trembled, and felt sure the very ground below her shook. She began to run away, afraid, but a single word detained her--a single word, streaming through all the air--“Robert!” “Robert!” She knew her duty was to watch over him till he had read his mother’s will, so she stood still, trembling no longer. Then she thought the sound came from a dark corner near, and lightly walking to it, she peered in, and then drew back with mighty fear. She sped quickly to a rustic cross by the roadside; she fell at its feet, and lay senseless. Forth from the cavern came the white knight. The doom, then, was irrevocable; unless Robert freely gave himself up--and before the morrow--they would be parted. Parted from Robert, whom he loved so much. “By his own will--by his own will, he must be won.” Suddenly he turned, as he heard a weak womanly cry, and he saw Alice lying at the foot of the cross. “Thou here, Alice? What ailest thee? Thou dost draw away. Nearer--come nearer; nearer, I say. Dost fear me?” Still she clung to the cross, the closer and more firmly as he approached. “What didst thou hear?” “Nothing.” “What didst thou see?” “Nothing--nothing.” “Come near me.” With a loud cry, she crossed herself. “Ah! thou knowest me!” “I do not fear.” “Thou shalt surely perish, utterly--thou and thine! What hast thou seen? What hast thou heard?” “Nothing--nothing.” “By a lie thou fallest.” As she flinched from him she saw Robert approaching, his head drooping, and his hands clasped. “Speak not--fall away from the cross thou hast shadowed. Fall away, I say.”