"The Lord of Bothwell," said Konrad, with a smile of scorn.
"Hah—well!" continued Anna in a breathless voice, while all her pride and petulance became immediately merged in intense eagerness.
"Thou hast not heard from him since his departure for the court of Scotland?"
"No—not one message hath come to Noltland, at least so sayeth the castellan."
"The castellan hath lied!" replied Konrad, with sparkling eyes; "he hath heard daily, and knows that this false Earl, whom he is now going to join and assist, hath been espoused, with every magnificence, to the sister of the Lord Huntly."
"And I—I"—gasped Anna.
"Thou art a captive for life in this island castle."
Anna clasped her hands passionately above her head, and would have fallen backward had not Konrad sprung to her assistance; but, unable to trust himself with the part of upholding her almost inanimate form, he seated her gently, and hung over her with the utmost tenderness.
"Konrad," she said, with pale and quivering lips, but firm and tearless earnestness; "thou, thou didst never deceive me in word, in deed, or thought—say, how didst thou learn this?"
"How, matters not—'tis the sad verity."