s--I will free him, as I promise.
Refuse them--deny me, and he must die, and nothing may save him then."

"Then he must die, sir!--we must both die--before we choose such terms.
Sir, let me call my father. Our conference must end here. You have
chosen a cruel office, but I can bear its infliction. You have
tantalized a weak heart with hope, only to make it despair the more. But
I am now strong, sir--stronger than ever--and we speak no more on this
subject."

"Yet pause--to relent even to-morrow may be too late. To-night you must
determine, or never."

"I have already determined. It is impossible that I can determine
otherwise. No more, sir!"

"There is one, lady--one young form--scarcely less beautiful than
yourself, who would make the same--ay, and a far greater--sacrifice than
this, for the safety of Ralph Colleton. One far less happy in his love
than you, who would willingly die for him this hour. Would you be less
ready than she is for such a sacrifice?"

"No, not less ready for death--as I live--not less willing to free him
with the loss of my own life. But not ready for a sacrifice like
this--not ready for this."

"You have doomed him!"

"Be it so, sir. Be it so. Let me now call my father."

"Yet think, ere it be too late--once gone, not even your words shall
call me back."

"Believe me, I shall not desire it."

The firmness of the maiden was finely contrasted with the disappointment
of the outlaw. He was not less mortified with his own defeat than awed
by the calm and immoveable bearing, the sweet, even dignity, which the
discussion of a subject so trying to her heart, and the overthrow of all
hope which her own decision must have occasioned, had failed utterly to
affect. He would have renewed his suggestions, but while repeating them,
a sudden commotion in the village--the trampling of feet--the buzz of
many voices, and sounds of wide-spread confusion, contributed to abridge
an interview already quite too long. The outlaw rushed out of the
apartment, barely recognising, at his departure, the presence of Colonel
Colleton, whom his daughter had now called in. The cause of the uproar
we reserve for another chapter.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

PROPOSED RESCUE.

The pledge which Munro had given to his niece in behalf of Colleton was
productive of no small inconvenience to the former personage. Though
himself unwilling--we must do him the justice to believe--that the youth
should perish for a crime so c