"He caused his vassals to bear Walter into the strong chamber where fair Marion was confined, and, grasping him by the neck, while he held his sword to his breast, he dragged him towards her, and said, sternly, 'Consent thee now, maiden, to be mine, and this boy shall live; refuse, and his head shall roll before thee on the floor as a plaything.' "'Monster!' she exclaimed, and screamed aloud, 'would ye harm my Walter?' "'Ha! my Marion!--Marion!' cried Walter, struggling to be free. And, turning his eyes fiercely upon Soulis--'Destroy me fiend,' he added, 'but harm not her.' "'Think on it, maiden,' cried the sorcerer, raising his sword; 'the life of thy bonny bridegroom hangs upon thy word. But ye shall have until midnight to reflect on it. Be mine, then, and harm shall not come upon him or thee; but a man shall be thy husband, and not the boy whom he hath brought to thee in bonds.' "'Beshrew thee, vile sorcerer!' rejoined Walter. 'Were my hands unbound, and unarmed as I am, I would force my way from thy prison, in spite of thee and thine!' "Soulis laughed scornfully, and again added, 'Think on it, fair Marion.' "Then did he drag her betrothed bridegroom to a corner of the chamber, and ordering a strong chain to be brought, he fettered him against the wall; in the same manner, he fastened her to the opposite side of the apartment--but the chains with which he bound her were made of silver. "When they were left alone, 'Mourn not, sweet Marion,' said Walter, 'and think not of saving me--before to-morrow our friends will be here to thy rescue; and, though I fall a victim to the vengeance of the sorcerer, still let me be the bridegroom of thy memory.' "Marion wept bitterly, and said that she would die with him. "Throughout the day, the spirit of Lord Soulis was troubled, and the fear of coming evil sat heavy on his heart. He wandered to and fro on the battlements of his castle, anxiously looking for the approach of his retainers, who had followed in pursuit of the followers of Branxholm's heir. But the sun set, and the twilight drew on, and still they came not; and it was drawing towards midnight when a solitary horseman spurred his jaded steed towards the castle gate. Soulis admitted him with his own hand into the courtyard; and, ere the rider had dismounted, he inquired of him hastily, and in a tone of apprehension-- "'Where be thy fellows, knave? and why come alone?' "'Pardon me, my lord,' said the horseman, falteringly, as he dismounted; 'thy faithful bondsman is the bearer of evil tidings.' "'Evil, slave!' exclaimed Soulis, striking him as he spoke; 'speak ye of evil to me! What of it?--where are thy fellows?' "The man trembled and added--'In pursuing the followers of Branxholm, they sought refuge in the wilds of Tarras, and being ignorant of the winding paths through its bottomless morass, horses and men have been buried in it--they who sank not fell beneath the swords of those they had pursued, and I only have escaped.'