“Oh, do not kill me, good Sir Knight!” cried the terrified youth piteously, and with a countenance as pale as a corpse.
“Spare him!—spare him!” cried Catherine,—“his worthless life is unworthy of thy blade.”
“Oh, mercy, mercy!” cried the youth again.—“Spare me!—spare me!—oh, do not kill me!”
“If I did kill thee, it would be no more than what thou hast well merited,” said Patrick.—“But, as thou sayest, Catherine, my love, such worthless blood should never wantonly soil the steel of a brave man; and if I could but make him secure by any other means, I should be better contented.”
“Bind me, if thou wilt, Sir Knight; but, oh, do not!—do not kill me!” cried the youth.
“Well then, I will spare thy life, though I half question the wisdom of so doing,” said Patrick.
Casting his eyes around the cave, he espied some ropes lying in a dark corner. Catherine flew and brought them to him. He seized them, and quickly bound the youth neck and heel, in such a manner as to make it quite impossible for him to move body or limb, and then, lifting him in his arms, he groped his way with him into the farther end of one of those dark recesses that branched off from the main cavern, and there he deposited him.
“Now, let us fly, my love!” cried he, hastily returning to the Lady Catherine. “Every moment we tarry here is fraught with danger.—Follow me quickly!—I grieve to think of the fatigue you must undergo. But cheer up, and trust for your defence, from all danger, to this good arm of mine. Above all things, be silent.”
“With thee as my protector I am strong and bold,” said Catherine. “Thanks be to the Virgin for this deliverance!”
Patrick now led the Lady Catherine forth into the open air. But before he ventured to proceed, he listened for a moment to ascertain that there was no one near. To his great horror, and to the lady’s death-like alarm, they distinctly heard a footstep slowly and cautiously approaching. Pushing Catherine gently behind the dark mass of stone at the entrance, he placed himself before her in the shadow, that, whilst concealed by it himself, he might have a perfect view of whosoever came, the moment the person should advance into the light, that was reflected on the wall-like side of the rocky mass opposite to him, and fell on the ground for a little space beyond it. He listened, with attention so breathless, that he seemed to hear every beat of his own heart, as well as of that of his trembling companion. The footstep was that of one person only, and he felt as if his resolution was quite equal to an encounter with a dozen; but he knew not how many might be following, and he was fully conscious of the importance, as regarded the lady, of avoiding a conflict, unless rendered indispensable by circumstances. The step came on, falling gently, at intervals of several moments, as if the individual who approached was unwilling to make the least unnecessary noise. The dim figure of a man at length appeared, under the arched boughs of the fallen pine tree. He advanced, step by step, with increased caution. A dirk blade, which he held forward in his outstretched hand, first caught the stream of reflected light that came from the mouth of the cavern. The next step that the figure took brought his face under its influence; and, to the great relief of Patrick Stewart, displayed the features of Michael Forbes. Patrick gave a low whistle. Michael had at that moment stopped to listen, with a strange expression of dread and horror, to the complaints of the youth who was bound in the innermost recesses of the cavern, whence they came, reduced by its sinuosities, into a low wild moaning sound, that had something supernatural in it, so as to be quite enough to appal any superstitious mind. The whistle startled him.