_I_ arrest you in the name of the Commonwealth and its Protector! A
night in one of the lone chambers of Cecil Place will cool the
bravo-blood that riots in your veins, and teach you prudence, if the
Lord denies you grace."

He laid his hand so heavily on De Guerre's shoulder, that his frame
quailed beneath its weight, while the point of his sword rested on the
peaceful grass. Burrell attempted, at the same instant, to steal the
weapon from his hand: the Cavalier grasped it firmly; while Major
Wellmore, darting on the false knight a withering look, emphatically
observed, and with a total change of manner,--

"_I_ can, methinks, make good a capture without _your_ aid, kind sir;
although I fully appreciate your zeal _in the cause of the
Commonwealth!_" The latter part of the sentence was pronounced with a
slow and ironical emphasis; then, turning to De Guerre, he added, "I
need not say to you that, being under arrest, your sword remains with
me."

De Guerre presented it in silence; for the result of his interview with
Constantia had rendered him indifferent to his fate, and, although but
an hour before it would have been only with his life that his sword had
been relinquished, he now cared not for the loss of either.

Major Wellmore took the weapon, and appeared for a moment to consider
whether he should retain it or not: he decided on the former, and in a
cold, calm voice commanded his prisoner to move forward. De Guerre
pointed to Constantia, who had neither shrieked nor fainted, but stood a
mute statue of despair in the clear light of the young spring moon,
whose early and resplendent beams fell in a silver shower on her bared
and beautiful head.

"I will take care of Mistress Cecil," said the insidious Burrell.

As he spoke, Lady Frances, who, alarmed at the absence of her friend,
had come forth to seek her, bounded into the Fairy Ring, and as suddenly
screamed, and stood irresolute amid the dread circle. The Major
immediately spoke:--

"Lady Frances, pray conduct your friend: Sir Willmott Burrell, we follow
you to the nearest entrance."

"And now," said Constantia, as her head fell on the bosom of her friend,
"he is in the lion's den--fully and for ever destroyed!" Nature was
exhausted: it was long ere she again spoke.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

VOLUME THE SECOND.

CHAPTER I.

The doubt of future foes exiles my present joy,
And wit me warns to shun such snares
As thr