"Thou canst jest, Adeline. Thy chillness comes upon my spirit like the keen ice-wind; it freezes while it withers."
The maiden turned aside her head, perhaps to hide a gleam of tenderness that belied her speech.
"Adeline, dark hours of sorrow are before thee! Think not to escape."
He seized her hand.
"Shouldst thou wed another, a doom is thine—a doom from which even thought recoils."
He looked steadfastly upon her, but the maiden spoke not; a tear quivered through her drooping eyelashes, and her lip grew pale.
"But I must away," continued Mortimer. "Yonder bark awaits me," and he drew her gently towards the brink. "It will part us, perhaps for ever! No, no, not for ever. Thou wilt wed—it may be—and when I return—Horror!"
He started back, as from a spectre which his imagination had created.
"That ring—take it. Let it be thy monitor; and should another seek thy love, look on it; for it shall warn thee. It shall be a silent witness of thy thoughts—one that will watch over thee in my stead; for the genii of that ring," said he, playfully, "are my slaves."
But she returned the pledge.