houtside the
low window, rested my arms upon the sill, and lowered my voice to the
most confidential whisper. Flora herself must kneel upon the other side,
and this brought our heads upon a level, with only the bars between us.
So placed, so separated, it seemed that our proximity, and the
continuous and low sounds of my pleading voice, worked progressively and
powerfully on her heart, and perhaps not less so on my own. For these
spells are double-edged. The silly birds may be charmed with the pipe of
the fowler, which is but a tube of reeds. Not so with a bird of our own
feather! As I went on, and my resolve strengthened, and my voice found
new modulations, and our faces were drawn closer to the bars and to each
other, not only she, but I, succumbed to the fascination, and were
kindled by the charm. We make love, and thereby ourselves fall the
deeper in it. It is with the heart only that one captures a heart.

"And now," I continued, "I will tell you what you can still do for me. I
run a little risk just now, and you see for yourself how unavoidable it
is for any man of honour. But if--but in case of the worst, I do not
choose to enrich either my enemies or the Prince Regent. I have here the
bulk of what my uncle gave me. Eight thousand odd pounds. Will you take
care of it for me? Do not think of it merely as money; take and keep it
as a relic of your friend or some precious piece of him. I may have
bitter need of it ere long. Do you know the old country story of the
giant who gave his heart to his wife to keep for him, thinking it safer
to repose on her loyalty than his own strength? Flora, I am the giant--a
very little one: will you be the keeper of my life? It is my heart I
offer you in this symbol. In the sight of God, if you will have it, I
give you my name, I endow you with my money. If the worst come, if I may
never hope to call you wife, let me at least think you will use my
uncle's legacy as my widow."

"No, not that," she said. "Never that."

"What then?" I said. "What else, my angel? What are words to me? There
is but one name I care to know you by. Flora, my love!"

"Anne!" she said.

What sound is so full of music as one's own name uttered for the first
time in the voice of her we love!

"My darling!" said I.

The jealous bars, set at the top and bottom in stone and lime,
obstructed the rapture of the moment; but I took her to myself as wholly
as they allowed. She did not shun my lips. My arms were