She paused; and the surprise visible on my countenance announced to Isidora that the answer was correct.
“And now, one word before we part;” and she laid her hand upon my shoulder—“Hector O’Halloran, beware! or your twentieth birthday will be as bloody as your first.—— Before we part, give me one promise.”
“Name it,” I replied.
“When I require you to meet me—when a writing with these marks attached to it, shall be placed within your hand”—and she gave me a scroll—“will you obey the order?”
I answered boldly in the affirmative.
“‘Tis well. Though my summons come in storm, and darkness, and at midnight, as you value life, obey it. Though beauty smiles, and music charms, leave all when that mystic signature is presented.”
Isidora and I turned our eyes on the scroll. It contained only a couple of initials—but annexed was a singular hieroglyphic, representing a heart perforated with a dagger. I smiled at the device, while Isidora became deadly pale. The wanderer saw the colour leave her cheek; and with a gentleness of voice and manner intended to remove alarm, she thus addressed my fair companion:—
“Lady, fear nothing; all will yet be well,—and by courage and caution danger shall be arrested. Go, and God bless you! Remember what I have said and you have promised. You have deadly enemies; but, Hector O’Halloran, you have one devoted friend. Ay, and humble as she is, trust to her; and if she do not save, she’ll die in the attempt.”
Ere the words were spoken, the gipsy had vanished behind the bushes, leaving Isidora and myself in marvellous astonishment at a scene equally unexpected and incomprehensible.
When we reached home, Mr. Hartley was waiting for us; and after dinner, when tête-à-tête, I recounted our adventure in the Park. He listened attentively to the detail, and asked me many questions, to which, however, I could give no satisfactory replies.