n and alarm. She was darting up the
crag, but was again detained.

"I will worship thee:--thou shall be my star--the axle of my thoughts.
All"----

"Unhand me, sir, or I'll call those who have the power to punish as well
as to humble thy presumption!"

"Whom wilt thou call, my pretty lamb? The wolf? The snake is scotched in
the bower, and I but beseech thy gratitude. How that look of scorn
becomes thee! Pout not so, my queen, or thou wilt indeed make an excuse
for my rudeness."

"How? Again this insult! Begone, or thou shalt rue that ever thy thought
escaped thy tongue. I'll report thee to thy betters."

"My betters! and who be they, maiden? Thou knowest me not, _perdie_.
Hath not Sir John Finett shorn his love-locks and eschewed thy service
after leaving thy bower the other night?"

This taunt raised her indignation to a blaze--her bosom swelled at the
rebuke.

Still he retained her hand--with the other she clung to a withered tree,
whose roots held insecurely by the rock. Making another effort, she
sprang from his grasp; but the tree was rent from its hold, and she fell
with it to the edge of the precipice. Ere the Silver Knight could
interpose, a faint shriek announced her descent: a swift crash was heard
amongst the boughs and underwood--a groan and a rebound. He saw her
disappear behind a crag. Then came one thrilling moment of terror, one
brief pause in that death-like stillness, and a heavy plunge was heard
in the gulf below! He listened--his perceptions grew more acute--eye and
ear so painfully susceptible, and their sensibility so keen, that the
mind scarcely distinguished its own reactions from realities--from
outward impressions on the sense. He thought he heard the gurgle and
the death-throe. Then the pale face of the maiden seemed to spring out
from the abyss. He rushed down the precipice. Entangled in the copsewood
and bushes, some time elapsed ere he gained the narrow path below. He
soon found, as in most other situations, the shortest road the
longest--that the beaten track would have brought him quicker to his
destination; but these nice calculations were forgotten. All pranked out
and bedizened as he was, the puissant knight plunged into the gulf; but
his exertions were fruitless, and he gave up the search. His love for
the maiden living and breathing did not prompt him to drown himself for
her corpse. With hasty steps he regained the Tower, where he doffed his
dripping garments unobserved.