"Do not! do not!" she cried, "for I could not refuse you anything; and that would be wrong after I have sworn: I would lay down my life for you, indeed I would; but you would not wish me to break my word."
"No, no!" replied Lord Walton; "but to return. I suspect, as I have said, that this destruction has not been committed by accident."
"Not entirely," said Arrah Neil, looking down.
"Not entirely!" exclaimed the peer. "Then you know how it happened--you know who did it--Arrah, speak, who was it? That, at least, I may ask."
The poor girl trembled terribly, but then, in a low sad voice she answered, "It was I."
"You?--you?" cried Lord Walton, gazing at her sternly, while his lip quivered in the attempt to suppress the emotions within him. The girl answered nothing, and after a struggle with himself he waved his hand, saying, "I forgive you, my poor girl, you did it when you were not yourself. Tell no one else, Arrah--the secret is safe with me;" and he turned away, lest one harsh word should mingle with the kinder ones he had spoken.
When he had gone some ten or twelve paces, however, Arrah Neil darted after him, caught his hand, and pressed her beautiful lips upon it.
"Do not abandon me, Charles Walton," she said. "Do not cast me off and hate me. Tell me, would you rather see all those ruins, and lose all you have lost, or be tomorrow a prisoner in the dark Tower of London, perhaps never to ride the green fields again while you live?"
Lord Walton paused with a look of bewildered inquiry; but then suddenly a light rose up in his eyes, and laying his hand upon Arrah Neil's shoulder, he said, "Thank you, Arrah! thank you. 'Tis a wild way of deliverance. Yet thank you, dear child. You meant it well, and it has succeeded. But here are people coming. Go back to Annie; we must not leave you behind us."