"Those days are past, you have not the power--and if you had, you might tear my tongue from its roots--but never wring from it the secret it held. Juana would die silent like the wolf; it would be of no use to imprison, nor punish me; to-night, to-night, she suffers, she whom you love better than life--time is passing--every moment is precious as untold wealth, even now, perhaps, she is in his power, even--" "Oh, sumless agony! I have deserved this at your hand, but, hear me, I will do whatever you wish, Juana. I will marry you--yes, I will--bitterly as it would punish me--I will roll away your reproach--you shall be a countess--only lead me to Ellen--let me save her from this wrong. I love her to wildness--let me save her, though she can never be mine!" Like one half-distracted, the Earl wrung his hands as he spoke; close to him stood Juana, calm, collected, self-possessed. "Listen, my Lord, I could now accept your offer, and become your lawful wife--the dearest name that I can have. I will not; Juana must be freely loved, and she is not so base as to betray her friend. Ellen Ravensworth is my friend. I will, for her sake--for her noble sake--lead you to where she is imprisoned,--a captive dove, and cruel hawks near. You shall be happy, and live to remember her who gave all in this world and the next for you--you, who deceived her. Name, fame, future bliss, all I freely give for Ellen's sake." "Noble Juana," cried the Earl, and not even Ellen could have grudged the look he gave her; "and now tell me who has dared imprison, and where he has imprisoned her. Oh! be quick, time presses." "Listen, then; I was the Italian minstrel, to me the care of Ellen was given--her brother was my old lover, and for this I saved her. Edward L'Estrange is he who dared make her his captive. To-night he will compel her to become his bride! but no, he will not. Ellen has a blade to deprive herself of life, should that be her last resource; and a heart to do it, should that alone save her from contempt and dishonour. I am brief and curt in my story, for there is little time to waste: even now perhaps we shall be too late, her own hand may have cut the thread of life ere we reach her prison." "Where is it, oh! heavens, where is it? I will fly thither. Oh! Ellen, my own darling, you in danger and I not there to support you! Juana, I can never thank you enough, but tell me where." "At Cessford's Peel--not seven miles hence." "Ah!" cried the Earl, "I have it now--and you, fair traitress, are the author of my misery; had it not been this confession, nought would have saved you, a heavy reckoning I would have had." "You will believe me when I tell you I had not any hand in this; true I was led to believe by bad men it might restore me to honour and virtue, but God willed it otherwise. Ellen, by an accident, the sight of yon dagger, was known to me, and--" "Tarry not, life hangs on every word. Cessford's Peel, said you? and what room is her prison?"