“I believe so,” said Isabella: “but what would you have me to do?” “Leave the castle instantly,” said Ratcliffe, “and throw yourself at the feet of this extraordinary man, who in circumstances that seem to argue the extremity of the most contemptible poverty, possesses yet an almost absolute influence over your fate.--Guests and servants are deep in their carouse--the leaders sitting in conclave on their treasonable schemes--my horse stands ready in the stable--I will saddle one for you, and meet you at the little garden-gate--O, let no doubt of my prudence or fidelity prevent your taking the only step in your power to escape the dreadful fate which must attend the wife of Sir Frederick Langley!” “Mr. Ratcliffe,” said Miss Vere, “you have always been esteemed a man of honour and probity, and a drowning wretch will always catch at the feeblest twig,--I will trust you--I will follow your advice--I will meet you at the garden-gate.” She bolted the outer-door of her apartment as soon as Mr. Ratcliffe left her, and descended to the garden by a separate stair of communication which opened to her dressing-room. On the way she felt inclined to retract the consent she had so hastily given to a plan so hopeless and extravagant. But as she passed in her descent a private door which entered into the chapel from the back-stair, she heard the voice of the female-servants as they were employed in the task of cleaning it. “Married! and to sae bad a man--Ewhow, sirs! onything rather than that.” “They are right--they are right,” said Miss Vere, “anything rather than that!” She hurried to the garden. Mr. Ratcliffe was true to his appointment--the horses stood saddled at the garden-gate, and in a few minutes they were advancing rapidly towards the hut of the Solitary. While the ground was favourable, the speed of their journey was such as to prevent much communication; but when a steep ascent compelled them to slacken their pace, a new cause of apprehension occurred to Miss Vere’s mind. “Mr. Ratcliffe,” she said, pulling up her horse’s bridle, “let us prosecute no farther a journey, which nothing but the extreme agitation of my mind can vindicate my having undertaken--I am well aware that this man passes among the vulgar as being possessed of supernatural powers, and carrying on an intercourse with beings of another world; but I would have you aware I am neither to be imposed on by such follies, nor, were I to believe in their existence, durst I, with my feelings of religion, apply to this being in my distress.” “I should have thought, Miss Vere,” replied Ratcliffe, “my character and habits of thinking were so well known to you, that you might have held me exculpated from crediting in such absurdity.” “But in what other mode,” said Isabella, “can a being, so miserable himself in appearance, possess the power of assisting me?”