"How many times more shall I hear that sound?" he asked himself. "Once how welcome were the notes of bells to my ears! With what happiness did I obey their summons to that church to which crowds flocked to hear me! Oh! what calm, what peaceful enjoyments were mine _then_—in the days of my innocence! And those days are gone—never to return! No human power can restore me to those enjoyments and to that innocence; and God will not do it!" Thus passed the time of this truly wretched man. At length the clock struck nine—next ten. "Will she come?" he said, as he paced his cell with agitated steps. "Or will she be afraid of compromising herself? And yet she must have confidence in me: I have acted in a manner to inspire it. I suffered her to believe that it was out of regard for her that I did not write to her, and that I recommended her to pass in as my sister. The vile wretch! she little knows that all this was the result of calculation on my part! If I had shown myself indifferent to her reputation—careless of her name,—she would not have so readily consented to do my bidding. Perhaps she would never have come to me at all! Now she believes that I am anxious to avert the breath of scandal from herself; and she will serve me: yes—I feel convinced that she will come!" Nor was Reginald mistaken. Scarcely had he arrived at that point in his musings, when the bolts of his cell were drawn back, and Lady Cecilia entered the dungeon. "You are true to your promise," said the rector. "Yes—I would not fail you," answered Cecilia, throwing herself into a chair: "but I tremble—oh! I tremble like a leaf." "Have you brought—_it_?" asked Reginald in a hollow tone. Cecilia drew from her bosom a small crystal phial, and handed it to the rector. He greedily withdrew the cork, and placed the bottle to his nostrils. "Yes—you have not deceived me! Now—now," he exclaimed, as he carefully concealed the phial about his person, "I am the master of my own destinies!" And, as he spoke, his countenance was animated with an expression of diabolical triumph. Cecilia was alarmed. "My God, what have I done?" she cried; "perhaps I have involved myself——" "Set aside these selfish considerations," said the rector; "you have earned wealth—for I have kept my promise—I have bequeathed all my fortune to you." "Do not imagine that I shall ever receive enjoyment from its possession, dear Reginald," returned Cecilia, affecting a tenderness of tone and manner which she did not feel. "Oh! I know your good heart, beloved Cecilia," exclaimed the rector; and as she cast down her eyes beneath his looks, he glared upon her for a moment with the ferocity of a tiger. "But you will be surprised—yes, agreeably surprised," he added composedly, "when you call upon my solicitor—which you must do to-morrow! Here is his address." "To-morrow!" echoed Cecilia, turning deadly pale. "You cannot mean to——to——"