“She shall tell you herself, thou incorrigible intermeddler in what concerns thee not, that it is her wish the ceremony should go on--Is it not, Isabella, my dear?” “It is,” said Isabella, half fainting--“since there is no help, either in God or man.” The first word alone was distinctly audible. Mareschal shrugged up his shoulders and stepped back. Ellieslaw led, or rather supported, his daughter to the altar. Sir Frederick moved forward and placed himself by her side. The clergyman opened his prayer-book, and looked to Mr. Vere for the signal to commence the service. “Proceed,” said the latter. But a voice, as if issuing from the tomb of his deceased wife, called, in such loud and harsh accents as awakened every echo in the vaulted chapel, “Forbear!” All were mute and motionless, till a distant rustle, and the clash of swords, or something resembling it, was heard from the remote apartments. It ceased almost instantly. “What new device is this?” said Sir Frederick, fiercely, eyeing Ellieslaw and Mareschal with a glance of malignant suspicion. “It can be but the frolic of some intemperate guest,” said Ellieslaw, though greatly confounded; “we must make large allowances for the excess of this evening’s festivity. Proceed with the service.” Before the clergyman could obey, the same prohibition which they had before heard, was repeated from the same spot. The female attendants screamed, and fled from the chapel; the gentlemen laid their hands on their swords. Ere the first moment of surprise had passed by, the Dwarf stepped from behind the monument, and placed himself full in front of Mr. Vere. The effect of so strange and hideous an apparition in such a place and in such circumstances, appalled all present, but seemed to annihilate the Laird of Ellieslaw, who, dropping his daughter’s arm, staggered against the nearest pillar, and, clasping it with his hands as if for support, laid his brow against the column. “Who is this fellow?” said Sir Frederick; “and what does he mean by this intrusion?”