"Forget it, as I have forgotten it, my sweet one."
"We have been so lonely and so isolated, Euphemia and I, that—that—"
"Thou hast missed me, then, beloved Sybilla!"
"Oh yes, as a bird misses the sunshine," said she, with a bright smile through her tears.
A mute caress was the only reply of Falconer.
"And this may be the last time we shall ever meet!" said Sybilla, clasping her hands.
"Unless we find a safe harbour for you," said Barton.
"And found it must be, Robert," said the firmer Euphemia; "for if we return to place ourselves under the authority of our father, and—and the influence of our uncle, that cold and determined dean, we will be hopelessly separated from you; for, women though we be, we dare not refuse to wed those facile fools of Angus, Hepburn of Hailes, and Home of Home."
Barton uttered a bitter laugh, which almost burst the braces of his cuirass.
"What say you to this, Sybilla?" asked Falconer, with a mournful smile.