Anxiety and fear for poor Virginia plunged Lisle into deep despondency, and not all the attempts of honest Mulroony could wean him from his melancholy reflections. He could scarcely be in any other than an unpleasant mood, as it was rather annoying for a newly-married man to spend the time immediately succeeding his nuptial-day in a stone turret, measuring eight feet by six. Two or three days passed away, and Louis found considerable satisfaction in the knowledge that Virginia was yet near him,—that the walls of the fortress still contained her. He had acquainted his humble friend with his story, and Paddy became more eager than before to serve him; and vowed, for his sake, to face "either man or devil, if he had only an opportunity, bad luck to it!" The place in which they were confined was an échauguette, or small turret, built on an acute angle of a bastion close to the gate of the fortress, and from the loop-holes Louis and his friend kept by turns a constant watch, so that it was impossible for Virginia to be carried off without their knowledge; and Lisle would probably have become frantic had he seen her departure, which he hourly expected would take place. One night Mulroony was on sentry at the loop-hole, watching the gateway, while Louis slept on the floor. The night was intensely dark,—"one on which ye couldn't see yer nose fornenst ye," as Mulroony himself said.
"Blistheration and blackness be on the day I ever saw ye!" soliloquized he, as he scanned the castle and its defences. "Shure it ud vex Mister Job, let alone a Connaught Ranger, to be caged up here shaking at ivery puff of wind, like a dog in a wet sack. Bad cess to them, the spalpeens ov blue blazes! Och! how long is this to last at all at all."
"Senor,—Luiz!" said a soft voice, close beside the loop-hole.
"Hubbuboo, tearin' murther! who are you, misthress?" said Mulroony, starting back in dismay as a dark figure, muffled in a hooded mantilla, appeared at the loop-hole. "Is it me you're looking for, darlint? Well thin, honey, it's just right you are, for there is not a smarter man in all the Connaught Rangers than Pat Mulroony,—damn the one from right to left! Ye've jist come to the right shop, honey; for, at wake or wedding who was the jewil ov the young ladies like Mr. Mulroony?"
"O madre Maria!" said poor Virginia, shrinking back in astonishment and grief. Understanding that Louis occupied this turret, she had resolved to pay him a visit, favoured by the darkness of the night and the inattention of her father and the duenna, who were both at that time engaged,—the former at the chess-board with the major, and the latter with her mass-book and brandy-bottle. Trembling with affection, fear, and the chill night-wind, which blew roughly on her delicate frame, she sought the place of Lisle's confinement; and great was her dismay at Mulroony's reply, which, although she did not understand, she well knew to be the voice of a stranger: but she implored him in Spanish, por amor de San Juan de Dios, to say where Don Luiz was confined.
"Don't be in such a flustheration, honey," said Mulroony, putting out his arms to embrace her. The lady shrunk back indignantly, and it now occurred to the egotistical gentleman to awaken Louis, thinking the visit might be intended for him.
"I say, sir! here's something wantin' to spake wid ye. I can't tell what it says, becase it spakes like naythur Frinchman nor devil, God bless us!" Louis sprung up.
"Virginia!" said he, and gave her his hand through the loop-hole. But she made no reply, save pressing it to her throbbing breast: her heart was too full to permit her to utter any thing.
"Virginia! have you any new distress to tell me of?"
"O Luiz!" said she, sobbing as if her heart would burst, "we meet for the last time."