s has thrown him
into, but I think they will save him from worse treachery. Nevertheless,
I must to London, and, if I cannot find him there, I must elsewhere seek
him out. If any ask for me, you will remain silent; and, dear girl, if
chance should throw you in Dalton's way, (it is likely he may be here in
a few days, perhaps before I return,) speak him kindly and gently; bear
with him, as you have borne with me."

"That is impossible," interrupted Barbara, "for there is no reason why I
should do so. He was never kind to me."

"But the time is coming when he will be kind. And now adieu, Barbara. I
desired much to remain; but I cannot. I imagined I might be useful to
Mistress Constance, but I could not; it rests not with me."

"I am very sorry you are going, Robin; for now, when I think of it, my
heart is heavy within my bosom; I know not why it should be so. You are
sure you can prevent that wild bad boy from frightening me again?"

"Quite sure. I'll lock him up within the Crag till my return."

"Thank you, Robin; but he will be kindly treated."

"To be sure he will."

"Thank you again;--but still the weight is here--_here_ on my heart. Do
you think it would be very wrong to wear this dress at my lady's
bridal?"

Robin smiled at the earnestness and simplicity that characterised this
child of nature.

"Oh, no; but if you love such, I can get you far finer garments."

"Can you indeed?" she exclaimed joyfully:--"But no," she added in a
sadder voice, "no bravery for me after this bridal. I dreamed a dream
last night. Do you believe in dreams, Robin? Listen: I thought we were
all standing at an altar in the ruined chapel."

"Who? All?" inquired the Ranger, eagerly.

"My lady and that man, and----" she paused.

"Who?" again inquired Robin.

"Why you: 'twas but a dream, you know," she added, blushing to the
temples. Then, as the colour faded from her calm face, even more quickly
than it came, she continued, "And we all looked so beautiful! and I
thought you so like the Cavalier Walter, and I felt so peaceful and
happy. But just as you touched my hand, there came a mist between us--a
dense and chilling mist, that made the marrow curdle in my bones, and my
joints stiff and iron-bound; and a voice, a low mournful voice, like the
wail of a dying bird, said, 'Come!'--and I attempted to answer, 'Not
yet;' but my tongue felt frozen to my teeth, and my teeth were as
icicles within my lips; and I was enshrouded in the m