-her rosary was unbound. She drew a glove from her hand, and
in it was the bridle ring, which she threw from her,--when the flame of
the lamp suddenly expired. It was in her little toilet-chamber, where
she had paused, that she might pursue her meditations undisturbed. Her
allegiance must be renewed, and revoked no more; but her pride, that
darling sin for which she raised her soul, must first suffer. On that
night she must be guided by the same laws, and subjected to the same
degrading influence, as her fellow-subjects. At least once a year this
condition must be fulfilled:--all rank and distinction being lost, the
vassals were alike equal in subordination to their chief. On this night,
too, the rights of initiation were usually administered.

The time drew nigh, and the Lady Sibyl, intending to conceal the glove
with the sacred symbol, passed her hand on the table where it had
lain--but it was gone!

* * * * *

In a vast hollow, nearly surrounded by crags and precipices, bare and
inaccessible, the meeting was assembled, and the lady of the Tower was
to be restored to their communion. Gliding like a shadow, came in the
wife of Lord William,--pale, and her tresses dishevelled, she seemed the
victim either of disease or insanity.

Under a tottering and blasted pine sat their chief, in a human form;
his stature lofty and commanding, he appeared as a ruler even in this
narrow sphere of his dominion. Yet he looked round with a glance of
mockery and scorn. He was fallen, and he felt degraded; but his aim was
to mar the glorious image of his Maker, and trample it beneath his feet.

A crowd of miserable and deluded beings came at the beck of their chief,
each accompanied by her familiar. But the lady of Bernshaw came alone.
Her act of renouncement had deprived her of this privilege.

The mandate having been proclaimed, and the preliminary rites to this
fearful act of reprobation performed, the assembly waited for the
concluding act--the cruel and appalling trial: one touch of his finger
was to pass upon her brow,--the impress, the mark of the beast,--the
sign that was to snatch her from the reach of mercy! Her spirit
shuddered;--nature shrank from the unholy contact. Once more she looked
towards that heaven she was about to forfeit,--and for ever!

"For ever!"--the words rang in her ears; their sound was like the knell
of her everlasting hope. She started aside, as though she felt a horrid