'She left the castle on the night of your departure,' answered Arwed.
'She must have fled, then, with the miserable Mac Donalbain!' cried the enraged Megret.
'Probably,' answered Arwed. 'She did not indeed name her seducer in her farewell note to her father, but all appearances point to him as the guilty one.'
'And has no attempt been made to bring her back and punish the miscreant for his villany?' asked Megret.
'The father has renounced his daughter forever,' answered Arwed, 'and I must beseech you never more to mention her in his presence. It overpowers the unhappy man to be reminded of her.'
'This is a consequence of my fatal delay!' cried Megret wildly, and beating his forehead. 'There is now nothing, nothing more in this world which can give me joy. My honor wounded by unworthy treatment, my love scorned and betrayed, what now remains for me?'
'A consciousness of rectitude, colonel,' said Arwed earnestly. 'It is a firm rock of safety amid the storms of life.'
'Consciousness of rectitude!' cried Megret with frightful vehemence, and then drawing a deep sigh, he hastened from the apartment.
'Some horrid secret lies in this man's breast, like a sleeping tiger in his lair,' said Arwed. 'Wo to me, if I should be called to draw it forth.'