not that tone of anguish! What can
I do? what say? Sybil, dearest Sybil, I love you so much, so fervently,
so devotedly; none can love you as I do: say not you are wretched!"

"Alas! alas!" said Sybil.

"What shall I do? what say?" said Morley.

"You know what I would have you say," said Sybil. "Speak of one who
is my father, if no longer your friend: you know what I would have you
do--save him: save him from death and me from despair."

"I am ready," said Morley; "I came for that. Listen. There is a meeting
to-night at half-past eight o'clock; they meet to arrange a general
rising in the country: their intention is known to the government; they
will be arrested. Now it is in my power, which it was not when I saw
your father this morning, to convince him of the truth of this, and
were I to see him before eight o'clock, which I could easily do, I could
prevent his attendance, certainly prevent his attendance, and he
would be saved; for the government depend much upon the papers, some
proclamations, and things of that kind, which will be signed this
evening, for their proofs. Well, I am ready to save Gerard, my friend,
for so I'll call him as you wish it; one I have served before and long;
one whom I came up from Mowbray this day to serve and save; I am ready
to do that which you require; you yourself admit it is no light deed;
and coming from one you have known so long, and, as you confess, so
much regarded, should be doubly cherished; I am ready to do this great
service; to save the father from death and the daughter from despair.
--if she would but only say to me, 'I have but one reward, and it is
yours.'"

"I have read of something of this sort," said Sybil, speaking in a
murmuring tone, and looking round her with a wild expression, "this
bargaining of blood, and shall I call it love? But that was ever between
the oppressors and the oppressed. This is the first time that a child
of the people has been so assailed by one of her own class, and who
exercises his power from the confidence which the sympathy of their
sorrows alone caused. It is bitter; bitter for me and mine--but for you,
pollution."

"Am I answered?" said Morley.

"Yes," said Sybil, "in the name of the holy Virgin."

"Good night, then," said Morley, and he approached the door. His hand
was on it. The voice of Sybil made him turn his head.

"Where do they meet to-night?" she inquired, in a smothered tone.

"I am bound to secrecy," said Morley.