"By every hope, I swear it."
"Handassah, you will bear this maiden's oath in mind, and witness its fulfilment."
"I will," replied the gipsy girl, stepping forward from a recess, in which she had hitherto remained unnoticed.
"Enough. I am satisfied. Tarry with me. Stir not—scream not, whatever you may see or hear. Your life depends upon your firmness. When I am no more——"
"No more?" echoed Eleanor, in horror.
"Be calm," said Sybil. "When I am dead, clap your hands together. They will come to seek you—they will find me in your stead. Then rush to him—to Sir Luke Rookwood. He will protect you. Say to him hereafter that I died for the wrong I did him—that I died, and blessed him."
"Can you not live, and save me?" sobbed Eleanor.
"Ask it not. While I live, your life is in danger. When I am gone, none will seek to harm you. Fare you well! Remember your oath, and you, too, remember it, Handassah. Remember also—ha! that groan!"
All started, as a deep groan knelled in their ears.
"Whence comes that sound?" cried Sybil. "Hist!—a voice?"