"The idea is too horrible--but now," he continued, in a voice of delight, "you are speaking like my old companion and playfellow. 'Tis long--O, very, very long, Lilian, since last we conversed together alone. Do you remember when we gathered flowers, and rushes, and pebbles by the banks of the Loch, and berries at the Heronshaw, and gambolled in the parks in the summer sunshine?" "How could I forget them?" "Never have I been so happy since. O, those were days of innocence and joy!" There was a pause, and both sighed deeply. "Poor Walter, how sincerely I pity thee!" "Then I bless the chance that brought me here." "In that cold dark pit--Oh, 'tis a place of horror. Would to Heaven I could free you, Mr. Walter!" "Ah, Lilian, call me Walter, without the _Mr_. Your voice sounds then as it did in other days, ere cold conventionalities raised such a gulf between us." "They can do so no longer," said the young lady, weeping; "we are landless and ruined now, and O! did not fear for my good aunt Grisel make me selfish, I would surrender myself to the council to-morrow." "S'death! do not think of it!" "We both accuse ourselves of selfishness--of the very excess of cowardice, and of blotting our honour for ever, by meanly flying and transferring all our dangers to you." "Do not permit yourself to think so," said Walter, moved to great tenderness by her tears. "Dear Lilian, (allow me so to call you, in memory of our happier days,) leave me now--to tarry here is full of danger. If you are discovered by the rascals who guard this place, the thought of what would ensue may drive me mad; threats, imprisonment, discovery, and disgrace--oh, leave me, for God's sake, Lilian!" "Besides, I may be compromising the safety of those good friends who so kindly have accompanied me hither to-night. Ah! there is a terrible proclamation against us fixed to the city cross; they style us those intercommuned traitors, the Napiers, umquhile of Bruntisfield." "Then leave me, Lilian--I can be happy now, knowing that you came----" "From Lady Grisel," said Lilian, hastily, "to express her sincere thanks for your kindness, and her deep sorrow for its sad requital, which (from what you told us,) we could not have contemplated. Indeed, Mr. Walter, we have been very unhappy on your account, and so, impelled by a sense of gratitude, I came to--to--" and, pausing, she covered her face with her hands and wept, for the new and humiliating situation in which she found herself had deeply agitated her. She did not perceive a dark figure that approached her softly, unseen by her friends, who were gaily chatting under the gloomy shadow of a projecting house, and quite absorbed in themselves. "Lilian, you were ever good and gentle," said Walter, altogether overcome by her tears, and pressing her hand between his own. "Deeply, deeply do I feel the mortification you must endure; but do not weep thus--it wrings my very heart!"