The clear, transparent olive complexion of the beautiful Jewess contrasted strongly with the florid countenance of the highwayman; and the commingling of the raven hair of the one with the light, almost yellow locks of the other, produced a strange effect, as the marked discrepancy of hues was set off by the snowy whiteness of the pillow. By the feeble light of the candle, it appeared as if ebony and gold were blending on a white ground.
But, hark! what is that sound which breaks on the silence of the chamber?—and wherefore does the highwayman start from his sleep?
He awakes—and listens.
The Jewess also awakes—and also listens,—one of her beautifully modelled arms thrown around the neck of him whom she loved so fondly.
"Some one is trying the back-door," whispered Rainford at length; and he leapt from the bed.
In less than a minute he had thrown on his clothes; and grasping his pistols, he hastened to the window.
But at the same instant the back-door was forced in;—more violently, no doubt, than Bingham and his co-operator had intended; and the sound was too unequivocal to permit Tom Rain to doubt the meaning of the disturbance.
Returning to the bed, he said in a hurried but solemn and deeply impressive tone, "Dearest, I am betrayed. If I escape, you shall soon hear from me: if I am captured, I charge you—by all the love I bear for you—by all the love you bear for me—not to attempt to visit me in prison! Farewell—dearest, dearest girl!"
He embraced her fondly—affectionately,—oh! most lovingly; while she sobbed as if her heart would break.
Then in a moment he tore himself away:—footsteps—many footsteps were already ascending—nay, rushing up—the stairs.