o her apartments. Begone!" he added, sternly, as the eyes of Joan still
seemed to beseech mercy; "I will hear no more--the traitor dies!"

CHAPTER XXV.

The shades of advancing night had already appeared to have enwrapped the
earth some hours, when Nigel Bruce was startled from an uneasy slumber
by the creaking sounds of bolts and bars announcing the entrance of some
one within the dungeon. The name of his beloved, his devoted Agnes,
trembled on his lips, but fearful of betraying her to unfriendly ears,
ho checked himself, and started up, exclaiming, "Who comes?" No answer
was vouchsafed, but the dim light of a lamp, placed by the intruder on
the floor, disclosed a figure wrapped from head to foot in the shrouding
mantle of the time, not tall, but appearing a stout muscular person,
banishing on the instant Nigel's scarcely-formed hope that it was the
only one he longed to see.

"What wouldst thou?" he said, after a brief pause. "Doth Edward practise
midnight murder? Speak, who art thou?"

"Midnight murder, thou boasting fool; I love thee not well enough to
cheat the hangman of his prey," replied a harsh and grating voice,
which, even without the removal of the cloak, would have revealed to
Nigel's astonished ears the Earl of Buchan. "Ha! I have startled
thee--thou didst not know the deadly enemy of thy accursed race!"

"I know thee now, my Lord of Buchan," replied the young man, calmly;
"yet know I not wherefore thou art here, save to triumph over the fallen
fortunes of thy foe; if so, scorn on--I care not. A few brief hours, and
all of earth and earthly feeling is at rest."

"To triumph--scorn! I had scarce travelled for petty satisfaction such
as that, when to-morrow sees thee in the hangman's hands, the scorn of
thousands! Hath Buchan no other work with thee, thinkest thou? dost thou
affirm thou knowest naught for which he hath good cause to seek thee?"

"Earl of Buchan, I dare affirm it," answered Nigel, proudly; "I know of
naught to call for words or tones as these, save, perchance, that the
love and deep respect in which I hold thine injured countess, my
friendship for thy murdered son, hath widened yet more the breach
between thy house and mine--it may be so; yet deem not, cruel as thou
art, I will deny feelings in which I glory, at thy bidding. An thou
comest to reproach me with these things, rail on, they affect me as
little as thy scorn."

"Hadst thou said love for her they call my daughter, th