“Well met, Master Frank Stanley,” it said; “you have avoided me of late, as have all our villagers.”
“After what I have been witness to, Miss Lucy,” began Stanley —
“Believe me, Frank, the interview you beheld between myself and the Lady of the Rock was pure as the intercourse above.”
“I beseech you, Lucy Ellet,” exclaimed the youth, earnestly, and not heeding her words, “for your own soul’s sake, for your young sister’s sake, cease these suspicious visits to yonder mysterious spot!”
“Oblige me, then, in relieving me of my duty toward that unhappy lady, by assuming the task hitherto performed by myself, and I will go thither no more.”
“I would do aught but perjure my own soul, to have thee and thy sister reinstated in the opinion of our little community, to say nothing of saving ye both from future destruction. Yet,” continued he, “if I also must hold frequent converse with that visionary form, I dare not —”
“Out on thee, Frank,” interrupted the young lady, “I had thought thee a brave youth, afraid of nothing but sin.”
“And is it not sin to hold constant speech with a spirit-messenger of Satan?” inquired the boy.
“I will request thee to have no speech of her; I would merely depute you to bear, morning and evening, a little basket resembling this, (and she drew one from beneath her shawl,) place it on the rock—wait until the unknown lady appears to remove it, and replace it with another—then return to the village. Do this to oblige me, Frank, and save me the necessity I shall otherwise be under of continuing the visits so execrated. More confidence I cannot put in you at present; but will you not have faith that I would not instigate you to the performance of an act that was otherwise than noble.”
“Lucy Ellet,” said Stanley, looking on her steadily, “there is that in your manner and your words which shows me that you are actuated by some generous principle in this singular affair. What this mystery may be, time must prove. I will do your errand.”