anger, and pride were alike forgotten in each; and, fondly extending his fettered arms towards her, he exclaimed:

“And have you then come, my beloved, like an angel visitant, to my dreary prison-house, to bless me with one last look?’

“To look my last upon you, I am indeed come,” she replied, “my Edward! Mine! do I say? Ay, mine; for I have purchased you with a price. You were, an hour ago, reckoned with the dead, but now are you living and free. Your life and liberty are my gift—go, and be happy; and when the green grass waves over the early grave of Dame Helen Warden (as I must soon be called), remember she died to save you from the fate of your brave companions in arms, Lisle and Lucas.”

“And will you, dare you, wed this lady on such terms?” demanded Colonel Dagworth, turning sternly to Sir Richard Warden.

“No,” he replied, “I’ll none of her; take her—she is yours. I will bestow her upon you with my own hand at the marriage altar; and all I ask in return is, for you to bear me witness among your brother cavaliers, that you found one generous foe among the conquerors of Colchester.”