Then, passing his other arm around her, so as
to prevent escape, he said, but in a voice barely audible, the one word,
"Lola!"

With a violent effort she tried to disengage herself from his grasp;
and although her struggles were great, not a cry, not a syllable escaped
her. "Hear me, Lola," said D'Esmonde; "hear me with patience and with
calm, if not for my sake, for your own."

"Unhand me, then," said she, in a voice which, though low, was uttered
with all the vehemence of strong emotion. "I am not a prisoner beneath
this roof."

"Not a prisoner, say you?" said D'Esmonde, as he locked the door, and
advanced towards her. "Can there be any bondage compared to this? Does
the world know of any slavery so debasing?"

"Dare to utter such words again, and I will call to my aid those who
will hurl you from that window," said she, in the same subdued accents.
"That priestly robe will be but a poor defence here."

"You'd scarcely benefit by the call, Lola," said D'Esmonde, as he stole
one hand within the folds of his robe.

"Would you kill me?" cried she, growing deathly pale.

"Be calm, and hear me," said the priest, as he pressed her down upon
a seat, and took one directly opposite to her. "It never could be my
purpose, Lola, to have come here either to injure or revile you. I may,
indeed, sorrow over the fall of one whose honorable ambitions might have
soared so high; I may grieve for a ruin that was so causeless; but, save
when anguish may wring from me a word of bitterness, I will not hurt
your ears, Lola. I know everything,--all that has happened; yet have I
to learn who counselled you to this flight."

"Here was my adviser,----here!" said she, pressing her hand firmly
against her side. "My heart, bursting and indignant,----my slighted
affection,----my rejected love! you ask me this,----you, who knew how I
loved him."

For some seconds her emotion overcame her, and, as she covered her face
with her hands, she swayed and rocked from side to side, like one in
acute bodily pain.

"I stooped to tell him all,--how I had thought and dreamed of him; how
followed his footsteps; sought out the haunts that he frequented, and
loved to linger in the places where he had been. I told him, too, of one
night when I had even ventured to seek him in his own chamber, and was
nearly detected by another who chanced to be there; my very dress was
torn in my flight. There was no confession too humiliating for my lips
to utter, nor m