“Speak, Zana, before your strange guardian comes. I give up all—I offer all; speak, and you are my wife.”
“Never!” I exclaimed, almost fiercely, “never, so help me heaven, will I marry a man whose honor binds him to another, and that other”——
“Enough!” he exclaimed, wringing my hand hard, and dropping it; “you never loved me; farewell!”
He turned away and darted around a neighboring rock. When Chaleco came up his boat was far out on the lake, and I sat watching it with the heaviest heart that ever cumbered a human bosom.
“What does this mean? Who was the young man who left you just now?” said Chaleco, looking after the boat suspiciously, as he entered.
“It was George Irving; he wished to make me his wife”——
I could not go on, my voice was choked by sobs.
“His wife?” said the gipsy, with a scornful laugh; “so he has found out the old books, has seen the register, knows the road to save himself—cunning young fellow!”
I looked at Chaleco in astonishment; his hateful laugh annoyed me terribly.
“What is the meaning of this, these old books? how could they affect him or his offer? he knew before that I was Lord Clare’s child?”