“Be the breach through which I may be allowed to march in thither, produced how it may,” said Patrick Stewart, “I am not sorry at thine intelligence. But, much as I love the good Lord of Curgarf’s converse, I must freely tell thee that I would fain slip away from it, for some half hour or so, before supper to-night, unperceived by him, to exchange it for that of thy sweet sister. We have not had above five words of private conference together since I entered the Castle. So pray have the charity to keep thy worthy father in talk, while the Lady Catherine and I are out, for a brief space, on an evening walk.”
“A pretty use thou wouldst put me to, truly!” said Arthur Forbes, laughing. “But to pleasure thee, thou shalt be obeyed.”
The lovers waited with no little impatience for the hour which was to yield them the desired meeting. When it at length arrived, they stole out at different moments, and went by different ways to the trysting spot. No one but a lover can fully estimate the delight of such a stolen interview as this was. They felt it deeply; and the only difficulty they had was in estimating the lapse of time. The surly toned bell, that pealed from the tower of the Castle at some distance, warned them to separate, ere, by their calculation, they had been more than a few short minutes together.
“Must we then part so soon?” said Patrick, fondly. “How swiftly the moments have flown!”
“I dare not tarry one instant longer,” said the Lady Catherine; “my father, you well know,——”
“Alas! I do know,” interrupted Patrick; “yet have I now some hopes of working my way into his good favour. But I shall tell you more of this anon. We shall meet again to-morrow night, shall we not?”
“Yes, yes!” replied Catherine, hurriedly.
“At the same hour and place?” said Patrick. “Alas! till then I must be contented with such converse with thee as our eyes may yield us: and blessings on thine for the intelligence they convey to me.”
“I hope my father may not be able to read them so readily,” replied Catherine. “But I must go now.”
“Stay for one moment, my sweetest heart,” said Patrick. “Ere you go, let me fix thine arryssade more firmly over thy bosom.” And, as he said so, he took from his sporran a golden brooch, formed of two entwined hearts, set with garnets. “Wear this trifle for my sake over thy heart. And now may I say, what I dare not utter in thy father’s hall—Farewell, my love—my dearest Catherine!”