"There now," cried Maude; "you are as gallant-looking a young cavalier as I should wish to look at."
"A sad, faint-hearted one," answered Arabella. "Run, good Maude, run and see if the way be clear. I fear my little strength will fail me, if we stay long."
"Finish the wine, lady; finish the wine, and take some bread with it," answered her companion. "I will go and make sure that all is right. Drink the wine, I beseech you. You need not think of your head. Fear will take off the effect."
Thus saying, she sped away, and returned in a few minutes, saying, "All is safe, the cook is by the kitchen fire, sound asleep; and I hear old Jones thumping at his bottles. The door is wide open, and the iron gates unlocked. Come, lady, come, you had better lose no time."
"Come with me to the iron gates, Maude," said Arabella, in a beseeching tone; "I can scarcely keep my feet."
"That I will, lady," answered the good woman.--"Courage, courage! the worst of the business is over."
"Would that it were," answered Arabella, leaning on her arm and proceeding down the stairs.
Nothing occurred, however, to increase her apprehension; all was silent in the house, the quiet sunshine sleeping on the hall-floor, and the insect world buzzing without. Not a sound met the ear, but that hum, and the sighing of a light wind through the trees. Making a great effort, Arabella quitted the arm of her companion, when they issued forth from the door, and, walking with an unsteady step along the path, soon reached the gates. There, Maude drew one of the valves back, and the lady put a ring into her hand.
"No, no," she said, "I will none of it. Keep diamonds for yourself, lady; but if you will give me something, I will take your gloves which lie upon the table, just to think of you by."
"Take anything, good Maude," replied Arabella; "and, above all, my truest thanks."