“My brother! thank Heaven!”
These exclamations burst simultaneously from the trembling lips of the villain before him, and from Mr. Ellerton, who stood at his side.
Ralph, who had been leaning despondently upon a chair near by, sprang eagerly up and came nearer the deeply interesting group.
At this instant, a sharp, shrill cry rang through the room, and a woman’s figure rushed frantically forward, and threw herself at the feet of him who stood at last revealed in his true character.
It was the woman before mentioned, enveloped in the heavy cloak.
Alfred Ellerton’s face paled to the hue of death, his heart throbbed wildly, and he shook in every limb as he stooped and gently raised the prostrate woman to her feet.
She leaned against him, scarcely able to sustain her own weight.
With nervous and trembling fingers he quickly unfastened her wrappings and cast them from her, revealing a tall, graceful form clad in a rich black velvet robe.
She was queenly. Her hair, black as midnight, was twined around her small head like a coronet, but her face, which every one imagined must be beautiful, was hidden in her trembling hands.
The man who so tenderly supported her drew them firmly but gently away, and eagerly scanned her face for a moment, then clasping her in a close, fond embrace, exclaimed, in joyful accents: