"How different was I then from what I am now!" she exclaimed, pressing her hands upon her breast, as if it would burst. "The deuce!" Clermistonlee whistled. "Yes, base and ungrateful! the hand that now ye loathe was then white as the new fallen snow, and these grey locks were like the dewy wing of the raven. My eyes could then look love to thine, that flashed with the youth, the joy, and the brightness of twenty summers. Who that saw us then, would dream that we are the same? I am no longer young, no longer lovely, and thou--art still a man." "Crush me if this is not ridiculous! art nearly done, old lady?" "No--there is a rival in thy way!" "S'Death, I know that too well. 'Tis that spawn of the Covenant, young Fenton of Dunbarton's Foot. But I am still trifling. Listen, Beldame, and lay my words to heart. A brisk young damsel will be here in an hour hence. See that the turret that overhangs the rocks is prepared for her reception, for I swear by all that is holy! she shall never leave this roof until she is mine--yea, as much as----" "As I once was, and many more have been, hah!" Clermistonlee laughed loudly. "I have arled thee, Beatrix, and woe if thou failest or playest me false, for the hemp is twisted that shall strangle, and the faggots oiled that shall consume thee. Yet more. The eyes of the Council have long been on thee for suspected sorcery, and dealing in love potions and medicinal charms--the red hand of Rosehaugh is over thee, wretched Beatrix, and ere long thou mayest know the full value of the protection I afford thee. Enough! we know each other, I think." "Not quite," replied Beatrix, with an air that startled her proud tormentor: "Vain fool! ye know not that by a word I could crush thee to nothing--yea, to the dust beneath my feet. Randal Clermont, I could reveal that, would smite thee like the scorching lightning. But no! my lips shall remain sealed, until----" "When?" "When the measure of my wrongs and my vengeance _is full_!" "Pshaw! thou art but a woman--a fool," replied Clermistonlee, jerking on his buff gloves carelessly, but feeling somewhat surprised by her manner. "When will this new victim be here?" asked Beatrix, with a ghastly grin. "I have said in an hour, if all goes well. Prepare the old turret for her--that cage hath held a wilder bird ere now; nay, nay, none of that kind of work," said he, changing colour as Beatrix took a poniard from the mantelpiece; "nothing of that sort will be required--once in a life-time--tush! I will be back anon--till then, adieu." He hurried away with evident confusion, and rushing down the avenue without looking once behind him, leaped into the boat and was pulled over to the city. "Will your Lordship be crossing the water again this nicht?" asked the boatman, with the utmost humility.