"Why, there's hardly any shadow at all, Lucy. She mustn't dream, my darling! or dream only of me."
"Dearest! but I do."
"To-morrow, Lucy! The letter in the morning, and you at night. O happy to-morrow!"
"You will be sure to be there, Richard?"
"If I am not dead, Lucy."
"O Richard! pray, pray do not speak of that. I shall not survive you."
"Let us pray, Lucy, to die together, when we are to die. Death or life, with you! Who is it yonder? I see some one—is it Tom? It's Adrian!"
"Is it Mr. Harley?" The fair girl shivered.
"How dares he come here!" cried Richard.
The figure of Adrian, instead of advancing, discreetly circled the lake. They were stealing away when he called. His call was repeated. Lucy entreated Richard to go to him; but the young man preferred to summon his attendant, Tom, from within hail, and send him to know what was wanted.