"Had not all this occurred," he thought within himself, "I should now be awaking, in my comfortable chamber, to a day which would be marked with the same happiness and security that other men are now enjoying. I should be free to go out and come in at will—free to walk hither and thither as I might choose. I should not have death staring me in the face, as at present! I should be able to say with confidence, 'To-morrow I will do this,' and 'Next day I will do that.' I should be my own master, possessed of all that can make man happy. But, now—now what a wretch I am! Confined to these four walls—a mere automaton that must eat and drink when a gaoler chooses!"
These thoughts were too heart-rending for the miserable man to endure; and, starting from his bed, he threw on his clothes with a rapidity that denoted the feverish state of his mind.
The clock struck eight; and his breakfast was brought to him.
"How many times more shall I hear that sound?" he asked himself. "Once how welcome were the notes of bells to my ears! With what happiness did I obey their summons to that church to which crowds flocked to hear me! Oh! what calm, what peaceful enjoyments were mine then—in the days of my innocence! And those days are gone—never to return! No human power can restore me to those enjoyments and to that innocence; and God will not do it!"
Thus passed the time of this truly wretched man.
At length the clock struck nine—next ten.
"Will she come?" he said, as he paced his cell with agitated steps. "Or will she be afraid of compromising herself? And yet she must have confidence in me: I have acted in a manner to inspire it. I suffered her to believe that it was out of regard for her that I did not write to her, and that I recommended her to pass in as my sister. The vile wretch! she little knows that all this was the result of calculation on my part! If I had shown myself indifferent to her reputation—careless of her name,—she would not have so readily consented to do my bidding. Perhaps she would never have come to me at all! Now she believes that I am anxious to avert the breath of scandal from herself; and she will serve me: yes—I feel convinced that she will come!"
Nor was Reginald mistaken.
Scarcely had he arrived at that point in his musings, when the bolts of his cell were drawn back, and Lady Cecilia entered the dungeon.
"You are true to your promise," said the rector.