Lucy!"

"It is true. I hope not to survive it. It will be a worse destiny to me
than even the felon death to the youth whom I would save. Do with me as
you please then, but let him not perish. Rescue him from the doom you
have brought upon him--and oh, my uncle, in that other world--if there
we meet--the one good deed shall atone, in the thought of my poor
father, for the other most dreadful sacrifice to which his daughter now
resigns herself."

The stern man was touched. He trembled, and his lips quivered
convulsively as he took her hand into his own. Recovering himself, in a
firm tone, as solemn as that which she had preserved throughout the
dialogue, he replied--

"Hear me, Lucy, and believe what I assure you. I _will_ try to save this
youth. I will do what I can, my poor child, to redeem the trust of your
father. I have been no father to you heretofore, not much of one, at
least, but it is not too late, and I will atone. I will do my best for
Colleton--the thing is full of difficulty and danger, but I will try to
save him. All this, however, must be unknown--not a word to anybody; and
Rivers must not see you happy, or he will suspect. Better not be
seen--still keep to your chamber, and rest assured that all will be
done, in my power, for the rescue of the youth."

"Oh, now you are, indeed, my father--yet--uncle, shall I see you at the
time when it is to be done? Tell me at what moment you seek his
deliverance, that I may be upon my knees. Yet say not to him that I have
done anything or said anything which has led to your endeavors. He will
not think so well of me if you do; and, though he may not love, I would
have him think always of me as if--as if I were a woman."

She was overcome with exertion, and in the very revival of her hope, her
strength was exhausted; but she had sunk into a sweet sleep ere her
uncle left the apartment.

CHAPTER XXXV.

NEW PARTIES ON THE STAGE.

A day more had elapsed, and the bustle in the little village was
increased by the arrival of other travellers. A new light came to the
dungeon of Ralph Colleton, in the persons of his uncle and cousin Edith,
whom his letters, at his first arrest, had apprized of his situation.
They knew that situation only in part, however; and the first intimation
of his doom was that which he himself gave them.

The meeting was full of a painful pleasure. The youth himself was
firm--muscle and mind all over; but deeply did his uncle reproach