"And have you--did you--" continued Coventry, looking still at Elizabeth.
"Lady Elizabeth has done nothing, sir. No word of affection has ever crossed her lips, to me at least," again replied O'Neill. "She would not even wait."
"Oh, but she did," interrupted Coventry, jealously, "a year--six months--she tried to postpone her wedding for six months more. I begin to understand."
"Peace, Edward!" said Elizabeth, trembling violently; "the Marquis de Richemont is--is nothing to me--can never be anything to me, that is. The wedding shall proceed at the appointed date; I gave you my word. It was the wish of my mother, the wish of the admiral, your wish--"
"And yours, also, dearest Elizabeth, is it not?" said Coventry, taking her hand entreatingly. She hesitated and stood silent.
"Have me executed at once, sir, in mercy and pity," said O'Neill to the admiral; "let it be now--the sooner the better. This I cannot stand; 'tis too much."
"Not so," replied the admiral, gravely; "I will consider the matter further and consult with you again. Meanwhile, if you will give me your parole, I will allow you the freedom of the castle."
"Parole! 'Tis given, sir. Faith, I hardly think you could drive me away."
"That's well," returned the admiral. "Sergeant, call my steward and have him assign chambers to the Marquis de Richemont. Coventry, I presume you will place your wardrobe at his disposal in case he needs anything. Now the marquis will doubtless wish to retire. We will see him in the morning. Come, Elizabeth. Good-night, sir; the sergeant will attend you."
"Lord Westbrooke, I thank you. Major Coventry, your servant. Lady Elizabeth, I wish you joy on your wedding; good-night," replied the young man, bowing to them all in succession.