Having offered this brief explanation, we shall return to the mysterious pair whom we left making their way to the hall. As their design was to enter the house secretly, they did not go near the drawbridge, being provided with other means of crossing the moat. One of them carried a coracle--a light boat formed of a wicker framework covered with leather. Though they had now reached the margin of the moat, which was fringed with reeds and bulrushes, they did not put their plan into immediate execution, but marched on in silence, till a light was observed glimmering from one of the windows. A taper had been thus placed to guide them, proving that they had a confederate in the house. On perceiving this light, which streamed from the partly-opened casement on the dusky water beneath it, the foremost of the twain immediately halted. He was a tall man wrapped in a long black cloak, with a broad-leaved hat pulled over his brows, and was well-armed. As soon as the coracle was launched, he stepped into it, and was followed by his attendant, who pushed the frail bark noiselessly across the moat. On reaching the opposite side, the chief personage sprang ashore, leaving his follower in the boat, and made his way to a postern, which he found open, as he expected. Before entering the house, he put on a mask. The postern communicated with a back staircase, up which the midnight visitor quickly mounted, making as little noise as possible. The staircase conducted him to a gallery, and he had not advanced far when a door was softly opened, and a young woman, who had hastily slipped on a dressing-gown, came forth, bearing a light. It was the nurse. She almost recoiled with terror on beholding the masked figure standing before her. "What's the matter with you, Bertha? Don't you know me?" asked the mysterious personage in a low voice. "Yes, I know you now, sir," she rejoined in the same tone. "But you look like--I won't say what." "A truce to this folly. Where is the child?" "In his mother's bed. I offered to take him, but she would not part with him to-night." "She will be obliged to part with him. I must have him." "Oh, sir! I beseech you to abandon this wicked design. I am certain it will bring destruction upon all concerned in it. Do not rob her of her child." "These misgivings are idle, Bertha. Bring me the child without more ado, or I will snatch it from its mother's arms." "I cannot do it. The poor soul will go distracted when she finds she has lost her darling." "What means this sudden change, Bertha?" he said, surprised and angry. "You had no such commiseration for her when we last talked over the matter. You were willing enough to aid me then." "You tempted me by your offer; but I now repent. I understand the enormity of the offence, and will not burden my soul with so much guilt." "You have gone too far to retreat. Having made a bargain you must fulfil it." "Swear to me that you will not injure the child, or I will not bring it to you."