ad become apprehensive that she was taken ill."

"And now, my dear father," she said, "permit me to claim the promise you
so kindly gave; let the last moments of freedom which I am to enjoy be
mine without interruption; and protract to the last moment the respite
which is allowed me."

"I will," said her father; "nor shall you be again interrupted. But this
disordered dress--this dishevelled hair--do not let me find you thus
when I call on you again; the sacrifice, to be beneficial, must be
voluntary."

"Must it be so?" she replied; "then fear not, my father! the victim
shall be adorned."

CHAPTER XVII.

This looks not like a nuptial.--MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING.

The chapel in the castle of Ellieslaw, destined to be the scene of this
ill-omened union, was a building of much older date than the castle
itself, though that claimed considerable antiquity. Before the wars
between England and Scotland had become so common and of such long
duration, that the buildings along both sides of the Border were chiefly
dedicated to warlike purposes, there had been a small settlement of
monks at Ellieslaw, a dependency, it is believed by antiquaries, on the
rich Abbey of Jedburgh. Their possessions had long passed away under the
changes introduced by war and mutual ravage. A feudal castle had
arisen on the ruin of their cells, and their chapel was included in its
precincts.

The edifice, in its round arches and massive pillars, the simplicity
of which referred their date to what has been called the Saxon
architecture, presented at all times a dark and sombre appearance, and
had been frequently used as the cemetery of the family of the feudal
lords, as well as formerly of the monastic brethren. But it looked
doubly gloomy by the effect of the few and smoky torches which were used
to enlighten it on the present occasion, and which, spreading a glare
of yellow light in their immediate vicinity, were surrounded beyond by
a red and purple halo reflected from their own smoke, and beyond that
again by a zone of darkness which magnified the extent of the chapel,
while it rendered it impossible for the eye to ascertain its limits.
Some injudicious ornaments, adopted in haste for the occasion, rather
added to the dreariness of the scene. Old fragments of tapestry, torn
from the walls of other apartments, had been hastily and partially
disposed around those of the chapel, and mingled inconsistently with
scutcheons and funeral emble