one. Thou wilt forbear my--that is, the earl!" And Katherine, softened
at that thought, sobbed aloud.

"And come triumph or defeat, I have thy pledge?" said Hastings, soothing
her.

"See," said Katherine, taking the broken ring from the casket; "now, for
the first time since I bore the name of Bonville, I lay this relic on my
heart; art thou answered?"

CHAPTER VI. HASTINGS LEARNS WHAT HAS BEFALLEN SIBYLL, REPAIRS TO THE
KING, AND ENCOUNTERS AN OLD RIVAL.

"It is destiny," said Hastings to himself, when early the next morning
he was on his road to the farm--"it is destiny,--and who can resist his
fate?"

"It is destiny!"--phrase of the weak human heart! "It is destiny!" dark
apology for every error! The strong and the virtuous admit no destiny!
On earth guides conscience, in heaven watches God. And destiny is but
the phantom we invoke to silence the one, to dethrone the other!

Hastings spared not his good steed. With great difficulty had he
snatched a brief respite from imperious business, to accomplish the last
poor duty now left to him to fulfil,--to confront the maid whose heart
he had seduced in vain, and say at length, honestly and firmly, "I
cannot wed thee. Forget me, and farewell."

Doubtless his learned and ingenious mind conjured up softer words than
these, and more purfled periods wherein to dress the iron truth. But in
these two sentences the truth lay. He arrived at the farm, he entered
the house; he felt it as a reprieve that he met not the bounding step
of the welcoming Sibyll. He sat down in the humble chamber, and waited a
while in patience,--no voice was heard. The silence at length surprised
and alarmed him. He proceeded farther. He was met by the widowed owner
of the house, who was weeping; and her first greeting prepared him for
what had chanced. "Oh, my lord, you have come to tell me they are
safe, they have not fallen into the hands of their enemies,--the good
gentleman, so meek, the poor lady, so fair!"

Hastings stood aghast; a few sentences more explained all that he
already guessed. A strange man had arrived the evening before at the
house, praying Adam and his daughter to accompany him to the Lord
Hastings, who had been thrown from his horse, and was now in a cottage
in the neighbouring lane,--not hurt dangerously, but unable to be
removed, and who had urgent matters to communicate. Not questioning the
truth of this story, Adam and Sibyll had hurried forth, and returned no
mo