"I shall see you again to-morrow."
"What! on the scaffold?"
"Aye, on the scaffold! Your place of martyrdom."
"This is friendship indeed. Time may one day prove to you that Anthony Hurdlestone was not unworthy of your love."
Frederic burst into tears afresh, and wringing Anthony's hand, hurried from the cell; and the prisoner was once more left alone to commune with his own thoughts, and prepare for the awful change that awaited him.
His spirit, weaned as it was from the things of earth, contemplated with melancholy pleasure the death of the young Clary, which he considered had placed his sweet young friend beyond the reach of human suffering.
"She is with the Eternal Present," he said. "No dark mysterious future can ever more cloud her soul with its heavy shadow. To-morrow—and the veil will be rent in twain, and our ransomed spirits will behold each other face to face. What is Death? The eclipse for a moment of the sun of human life. The shadow of earth passes from before it, and it again shines forth with renewed splendor."
His reverie was interrupted by the entrance of the jailor followed by another person muffled up in a large riding cloak. "A stranger," he said, "wished to exchange a few words in private with the prisoner."
Anthony rose from his humble bed, and asked in subdued tones, "to whom he had the honor of speaking?"
"To a sincere friend, Anthony Hurdlestone—one who cannot believe you guilty of the dreadful crime of murder."