e.

Unconscious that she was the object of regard, she raised her guitar,
and essayed to touch the chords. She struck a few notes, and resumed her
romance:

Swift that stream flows on,
Swift the night is wearing,--
Yet she is not gone,
Though with heart despairing.

Her song died away. Her hand was needed to brush off the tears that were
gathering in her large dark eyes. At once her attitude was changed. The
hare could not have started more suddenly from her form. She heard
accents well known concluding the melody:

Dips an oar-plash--hark!--
Gently on the river;
'Tis her lover's bark.
On the Guadalquivir.
Hark! a song she hears!
Every note she snatches;
As the singer nears,
Her own name she catches.
Now the Gitanilla
Stays not by the water,
For the midnight hour
Hath her lover brought her.

It was her lover's voice. She caught the sound at once, and, starting,
as the roe would arouse herself at the hunter's approach, bounded down
the crag, and ere he had finished the refrain, was by his side.

Flinging the bridle to Turpin, Luke sprang to her, and caught her in his
arms. Disengaging herself from his ardent embrace, Sybil drew back,
abashed at the sight of the highwayman.

"Heed him not," said Luke; "it is a friend."

"He is welcome here then," replied Sybil. "But where have you tarried so
long, dear Luke?" continued she, as they walked to a little distance
from the highwayman. "What hath detained you? The hours have passed
wearily since you departed. You bring good news?"

"Good news, my girl; so good, that I falter even in the telling of it.
You shall know all anon. And see, our friend yonder grows impatient. Are
there any stirring? We must bestow a meal upon him, and that forthwith:
he is one of those who brook not much delay."

"I came not to spoil a love meeting," said Turpin, who had
good-humoredly witnessed the scene; "but, in sober seriousness, if there
is a stray capon to be met with in the land of Egypt, I shall be glad to
make his acquaintance. Methinks I scent a stew afar off."

"Follow me," said Sybil; "your wants shall be supplied."

"Stay," said Luke; "there is one other of our party whose coming we must
abide."

"He is here," said Sybil, observing the sexton at a distance. "Who is
that old man?"

"My grandsire, Peter Bradley."

"Is that Peter Bradley?" asked Sybil.

"Ay, yo