from the tomb of his deceased wife, called,
in such loud and harsh accents as awakened every echo in the vaulted
chapel, "Forbear!"

All were mute and motionless, till a distant rustle, and the clash
of swords, or something resembling it, was heard from the remote
apartments. It ceased almost instantly.

"What new device is this?" said Sir Frederick, fiercely, eyeing
Ellieslaw and Mareschal with a glance of malignant suspicion.

"It can be but the frolic of some intemperate guest," said Ellieslaw,
though greatly confounded; "we must make large allowances for the excess
of this evening's festivity. Proceed with the service."

Before the clergyman could obey, the same prohibition which they had
before heard, was repeated from the same spot. The female attendants
screamed, and fled from the chapel; the gentlemen laid their hands on
their swords. Ere the first moment of surprise had passed by, the Dwarf
stepped from behind the monument, and placed himself full in front of
Mr. Vere. The effect of so strange and hideous an apparition in such
a place and in such circumstances, appalled all present, but seemed to
annihilate the Laird of Ellieslaw, who, dropping his daughter's arm,
staggered against the nearest pillar, and, clasping it with his hands as
if for support, laid his brow against the column.

"Who is this fellow?" said Sir Frederick; "and what does he mean by this
intrusion?"

"It is one who comes to tell you," said the Dwarf, with the peculiar
acrimony which usually marked his manner, "that, in marrying that young
lady, you wed neither the heiress of Ellieslaw, nor of Mauley Hall,
nor of Polverton, nor of one furrow of land, unless she marries with MY
consent; and to thee that consent shall never be given. Down--down
on thy knees, and thank Heaven that thou art prevented from wedding
qualities with which thou hast no concern--portionless truth, virtue,
and innocence--thou, base ingrate," he continued, addressing himself to
Ellieslaw, "what is thy wretched subterfuge now? Thou, who wouldst sell
thy daughter to relieve thee from danger, as in famine thou wouldst have
slain and devoured her to preserve thy own vile life!--Ay, hide thy face
with thy hands; well mayst thou blush to look on him whose body thou
didst consign to chains, his hand to guilt, and his soul to misery.
Saved once more by the virtue of her who calls thee father, go hence,
and may the pardon and benefits I confer on thee prove literal coals of