"Nay, fly me not!" he exclaimed: "deceive me not; for I have seen an angel in thy place to-night; and if thou art not a false and lying spirit, thou wilt not lead me to injure her." Then pausing again, as if listening to some one who spoke, he said, with quickness—
"I know it! I know it! That pistol—that ring! Yes, yes, yes, yes! Those indeed were direful evidences of his guilt!—Years, years, I have passed in thinking of them!—Yet he says, he swears, he is innocent—that it was De Sylva—that thou wert guilty! Oh, tell me, Rosolia, was it—was it so?—But I will pray for thy soul."
He knelt, and placing the lamp before him on the floor, its dismal light fell on his sad countenance, and shewed his eyes upturned, and his lips moving as in fervent prayer, while at intervals he crossed himself, and bowed his forehead to the earth. Then rising with a sudden start, he exclaimed—
"Hark, O'Brien calls! He will hear me—he shall not know my thoughts. It might not be St. Aubyn who shed thy blood: yet, oh, Rosolia—oh, my sister, it was thy blood I saw! And here is some of it on my hand."
He shook his hand violently, and appearing to look at it earnestly, he uttered a low, mournful, and distracted cry of terror, and rushed out of the room.
Alarm and horror had kept Ellen silent—she fainted not; yet scarcely could she be said to live. But as soon as his receding footsteps convinced her he was really gone, she hastily threw on some of her clothes, and flew, scarcely in her senses, to St. Aubyn's room. His door was fast, but with repeated knockings she aroused him, and great indeed was his consternation to see her so pale, so almost convulsed with fear and agitation.
"My dearest life!" he exclaimed: "what, for heaven's sake, is the matter with the child?"
"Oh! I have left him! I have forsaken him!" said she in terror, "all the doors open too, and that poor distracted youth may perhaps return, and who knows what injury he may do him! Oh! let us fly to the child," and she made some hasty steps towards the door.
"Recollect yourself, my Ellen," said the astonished St. Aubyn: "you are dreaming—sit down in this chair by the fire, and compose your spirits."
"Oh! no, it was no dream," said the shuddering Ellen, "I saw him as I see you now! he came to my room and said such dreadful things!"—