"Oh! Richard, will you really depart? will you venture on this expedition, so fraught with danger?" cried Isabella, now giving way to her grief as the moment of separation drew nigh. "I told you to hope—I wished to console you; but it is I who require consolation when about to say farewell to you! Oh! Richard, if you knew what anguish now fills my heart, you would be enabled to estimate all my love for you!" "I do—I do, adored Isabella!" ejaculated Markham, pressing her to his breast. "How devotedly—how faithfully you have loved me, I never can forget! When spurned from your father's house—overwhelmed with the most cruel suspicions, your love remained unchanged; and in many a bitter, bitter hour, have I derived sweet solace from the conviction that thy heart was mine! Oh! Isabella, God in his mercy grant that I may return from this enterprise with some honour to myself! It is not that I am influenced by motives of selfish ambition;—it is that I may remove at least one of the hundred obstacles which oppose our union. And now adieu, my angel—my dearly-beloved Isabella: adieu—adieu!" "Farewell, Richard—farewell, dearest one—my first and only love," murmured Isabella, as she wept bitterly upon his breast. Then they embraced each other with that passionate ardour—with that lingering unwillingness to separate—with that profound dread to tear themselves asunder, which lovers in the moment of parting alone can know. "Let us be firm, Isabella," said Richard: "who can tell what happiness my share in this enterprise may create for us?" "Yes—something tells me that it will be so," answered Isabella; "and that hope sustains me!" Another embrace—and they parted. Yes—they parted,—that handsome young man and that charming Italian maiden! And soon they waved their handkerchiefs for the last time;—then, in a few moments, they were lost to each other's view. Richard returned home to his house at Lower Holloway. He had visited the farm near Hounslow a few days previously, and had taken leave of Katherine. The young maiden had wept when her benefactor communicated to her his intended absence from England for some time; but, as he did not acquaint her with the nature of the business which took him way from his native country, she was not aware of the perils he was about to encounter. He had now to say farewell to the inmates of his own dwelling. But towards Mr. Monroe, Ellen, and the faithful Whittingham he was less reserved than he had been to Katherine. Vainly had the old butler implored "Master Richard not to indemnify himself with other people's business;"—vainly had Mr. Monroe endeavoured to persuade him to refrain from risking his life in the political dissensions of a foreign country; vainly had the beautiful and generous-hearted Ellen, with a sisterly warmth, argued on the same side. Richard was determined:—they deemed him obstinate—foolish—almost mad; but they knew not of his love for Isabella!