blinding snow.

"Thank Heaven he is gone at last!" reflected his father, and called for
Hague Simon, with whom he held a long and careful interview.

"You understand?" he ended.

"I understand," answered Simon, sulkily. "I am to find this priest,
who should be waiting at the place you name, and to bring him here by
nightfall to-morrow, which is a rough job for a Christian man in such
weather as this."

"The pay, friend Simon, remember the pay."

"Oh! yes, it all sounds well enough, but I should like something on
account."

"You shall have it--is not such a labourer worthy of his hire?" replied
his employer with enthusiasm, and producing from his pocket the purse
which Lysbeth had given Adrian, with a smile of peculiar satisfaction,
for really the thing had a comic side, he counted a handsome sum into
the hand of this emissary of Venus.

Simon looked at the money, concluded, after some reflection, that it
would scarcely do to stand out for more at present, pouched it, and
having wrapped himself in a thick frieze coat, opened the door and
vanished into the falling snow.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE BRIDEGROOM AND THE BRIDE

The day passed, and through every hour of it the snow fell incessantly.
Night came, and it was still falling in large, soft flakes that floated
to the earth gently as thistledown, for now there was no wind. Adrian
met his father at meals only; the rest of the day he preferred to spend
out of doors in the snow, or hanging about the old sheds at the back of
the mill, rather than endure the society of this terrible man; this
man of mocking words and iron purpose, who was forcing him into the
commission of a great crime.

It was at breakfast on the following morning that Ramiro inquired of
Black Mag whether the Jufvrouw Brant had sufficiently recovered from
the fatigues of her journey to honour them with her presence. The woman
replied that she absolutely refused to leave her room, or even to speak
more than was necessary.

"Then," said Ramiro, "as it is important that I should have a few words
with her, be so good as to tell the young lady, with my homage, that
I will do myself the honour of waiting on her in the course of the
forenoon."

Meg departed on her errand, and Adrian looked up suspiciously.

"Calm yourself, young friend," said his father, "although the interview
will be private, you have really no cause for jealousy. At present,
remember, I am but the second string in the bow-case,