pursue. Humbert sounded his harp
again, and began a wild romance. Concealing her agitation, she
endeavored during the song to collect her thoughts. What embarrassed her
most, was to divine whether Gilbert's purpose in his mad visit were
hostile or merely a piece of bravado. But she resolved to take no step
without mature reflection. She was deliberating whether she could
communicate her secret to Father Omehr, without so surprising him as to
excite remark, when he rose and left the room.

The Lady Margaret was detained to hear some verses improvised to
herself, which she rewarded with a slight token; she then withdrew,
without raising her eyes to Gilbert. After she had disappeared, the
baron dismissed the guests and retained the minstrel. Seizing this
opportunity, Humbert told Gilbert he might retire until he was called,
and the youth passed out, leaving behind only a few favorite retainers
with Sir Sandrit and the minnesinger. As the door closed behind him,
Gilbert found himself in a long and dimly lighted corridor. He saw a
black figure enter at the other end--it was Father Omehr.

"It rains too hard at present to venture out," said the priest, in
passing, and he re-entered the hall to wait till the gust had exhausted
itself.

Gilbert wandered along the arched gallery without any definite aim, yet
expecting to see the Lady Margaret start from some secret niche.
Suddenly his cloak was pulled so sharply, that he grasped his sword,
which he had been prudent enough to conceal beneath the ample folds of
his gown. As he turned, he saw a woman with her finger on her lips, but
it was not the Lady Margaret: that shrivelled face and curved back
belonged to Linda. The old neif, after thus enjoining silence, made a
gesture for the youth to follow, and shuffled noiselessly before him.
Gilbert's heart was well-nigh bursting with anxiety as they strode
along. When they reached the point where the corridor branched off into
many smaller passages, Linda entered one that opened through a
sharp-arched door upon the top of a battlemented tower. The youth felt
relieved by the cold, damp wind that drove through the aperture against
his burning cheeks. As they reached a recess near the tower, Linda
stopped and leaned against a buttress with her arms crossed on her
breast. At this moment, Gilbert became aware of the presence of a third
figure, muffled from head to foot in a mantle of fur; he felt that the
Lady Margaret stood before him, b