"Then why do you not let me out?" cried the lad. "If you grieve for me, let me run away."
"That is impossible," answered the peer; "but perhaps I may do something to make your fate less bitter. Death you must undergo; but in the mean time I may soften the strictness of your imprisonment. Is there any one whom you would wish to see--any of your friends and companions who might comfort you by coming to visit you?"
"What is the use, if I must die?" said the gipsy, sullenly, dropping his tearful eyes to the ground, and clenching tighter his clasped hands together; but Lord Dewry saw that there was something more working in his mind, and warily held his peace. "There is none I should like to see but Lena," said the gipsy at length, with a deep sigh; "and Pharold would not let her come, even if I were to ask."
"And why not?" demanded the peer, affecting as much unconcern as it was possible for him to assume when coming near the very subject of his wishes. "Why would any one prevent her from coming, if it would comfort you? He must be very cruel to deny you, when you have so short a time to live."
"No, he is not cruel," said the youth; "he is hard, but not cruel; but he would not let her come, do you see, because a year ago I was to have had Lena for my wife--at least so Mother Gray always told me: but then Pharold loved her; and though her own love did not lie that way, her mother, when she was dying, herself gave Lena to him, because he was better able to take care of her than any one else. And he does not love to see Lena speak to me, I know."
"So he took your bride from you," said the peer, not a little delighted to hear tidings which promised so fairly for success; "he took your bride from you, and now he is jealous of you. Well, then, listen to me, and mark well what I am about to say. Your fate is in your own hands. You are left to choose between life and death!"
The youth gazed dully in his face for a moment, as if he did not comprehend his words at first; but the next instant he burst forth, "Life, life, life, then!" cried he, clasping his hands together, and raising his eyes beaming with new hope: "life, oh, I choose life!"
"There is but one way, however," replied the peer, "by which you can obtain it. This Pharold, this very man who took away your bride, I have every reason to believe killed my brother and murdered my son."
"Then that is the way he gets money, no one knows how," cried the youth.
"Most probably it is," answered Lord Dewry; "but mark me, if you can contrive a means to get him into my power, you shall not only go free, but have a large reward. This is your only chance for life."