"It is impossible you can love him!" "Love him!--oh, no! custom has in part overcome the aversion with which I once regarded him, and by his able flattery he has succeeded in soothing me into a temper of kind indifference and quiet resignation--but oh, this interview----" Walter, who had never dared to diminish the distance between them, gazed wistfully and tenderly upon her; but at that moment an infant that was sleeping in its cradle awoke, and cried aloud. Its voice seemed to sting him to the heart, and he turned abruptly to withdraw. "Farewell, Lilian," said he; "I will go, and my presence shall disturb your serenity no more. May you be happy, and may God bless and forgive you for the agony I now endure! Clermistonlee, like the matchless villain he has been through life, has wronged us both; but let him tremble in the midst of his success and his treason, for the hour is coming when our King shall enjoy his own again, and remember that in that hour the same hand which rends the baron's coronet from the brow of your betrayer, bestows on me the Earldom of Dalrulion! Farewell," said he through his clenched teeth; "to me the paths of ambition and revenge are open still, though those of happiness and love are closed, alas, for ever!" He gave her one long glance of agony, and turned to depart; but at that moment strong hands were laid upon him violently--the room was filled with soldiers and the beagles of justice; he was dragged down and bound with cords, ere he could make the slightest effort in his own defence. "An out-and-out Jacobite, Papist, and a' the rest o' it--I ken by the look o' him!" cried Maclutchy, the macer, flourishing his badge of office. "Here will be some grand plots brought to light that will bring half the country under doom o' forfeiture and fine. Kittle times, lads, kittle times!' "Away with him!" cried Clermistonlee, spurning the manacled unfortunate with his foot; "away with him! The Lords of the Privy Council meet in an hour. Lose no time, for by all the devils, the corbies of the Burghmuir shall pick his bones ere the morrow's sun be set." As Walter was roughly dragged away, Lilian threw her hands above her head, uttered one wild shriek, and fell forward on her face, motionless as if dead. CHAPTER XXII. THE RING AND THE SECRET. See the cypress wreath of saddest hue, The twining destiny threading through; And the serpent coil is twisting there-- While regardless of the victim's prayer, The fiend laughs out o'er the mischief done, And the canker-worm makes the heart his throne. THE PROPHECY. Twelve o'clock tolled heavily and sadly from the steeple of St. Giles.