Her heart was full Of passions which had found no natural scope. She hated men because they loved not her, And hated women because they were beloved, And thus in wrath, in hatred and despair, She tempted hell.---- THE CURSE OF KEHAMA. Clermistonlee walked hurriedly forward, with his mantle rolled about him, his hat flapped over his eyes, and his sword-hilt ready at hand, for his amorous quarrels and politics had, through life, created him innumerable enemies. He muttered as he went, and his cheek flushed at times, though his nether lip was pale as marble, and under the broad shadow of his Spanish beaver his fierce dark eyes burned like two sparks of fire. Inflamed by wine and the beauty of Lilian, who had never appeared so enchanting as in her ball-dress, he had determined that very night to make another desperate attempt to obtain possession of her person, at whatever ultimate danger and odium. It was curious how strongly the sentiments of pride, avarice, and revenge, mingled with his love-musings;--his matchless pride was fired by the idea of the woman he loved being given to another--he had revenge to be gratified because, with ill-disguised loathing, she had shrunk from his addresses, and avarice crowned all, as he doubted not if by fair means or foul he obtained her hand, the entail of Bruntisfield and the Wrytes would soon become a dead letter. In effect, it was so already. But once a prisoner in his power, even for a single night, he knew that shame and her injured reputation would compel her to become his wife. Full of these thoughts, which crowded and chased each other in rapid succession through his unsettled brain, he strode forward at a quick pace, impatient for the triumphant consummation of his projects. The city was silent and dark, for the moon had now become obscured, and there were no lamps to light the narrow ways through which he hurried. In the High Street a few oil lanterns had been suspended about four years before by the Provost, Sir George Drummond, of Milnab, and these at long intervals shed a pale and sickly light; but all the numerous alleys diverging from this great thoroughfare were still involved in Cimmerian darkness. Deserted as they were, the cogitations of Clermistonlee were often interrupted by scraps of conversation from belated passengers, or stair-head gossips, who were making all secure for the night, and maintained at the top of their voices a colloquy with their neighbours opposite. "Ken ye cummer, at what hour the morn that vile witch is to be worrit?" screamed one.