it not attached to your father--to Sir Reginald--Sir
Ralph--Sir Ranulph--to all? Which of them has escaped it? And when I
tell you this, dear Luke; when I find you bear the name of this accursed
race, can you wonder if I shudder at adding to the list of the victims
of that ruthless spirit, and that I tremble for you? I would die _for_
you willingly--but not by your hand. I would not that my blood, which I
would now pour out for you as freely as water, should rise up in
judgment against you. For myself I have no tears--for _you_, a thousand.
My mother, upon her death-bed, told me I should never be yours. I
believed her not, for I was happy then. She said that we never should be
united; or, if united----?"

"What, in Heaven's name?"

"That you would be my destroyer. How could I credit her words then? How
can I doubt them now, when I find you are a Rookwood? And think not,
dear Luke, that I am ruled by selfish fears in this resolution. To
renounce you may cost me my life; but the deed will be my own. You may
call me superstitious, credulous: I have been nurtured in credulity. It
is the faith of my fathers. There are those, methinks, who have an
insight into futurity; and such boding words have been spoken, that, be
they true or false, I will not risk their fulfilment in my person. I may
be credulous; I may be weak; I may be erring; but I am steadfast in
this. Bid me perish at your feet, and I will do it. I will not be your
Fate. I will not be the wretched instrument of your perdition. I will
love, worship, watch, serve, perish for you--but I'll not wed you."

Exhausted by the vehemence of her emotion, she would have sunk upon the
ground, had not Luke caught her in his arms. Pressing her to his bosom,
he renewed his passionate protestations. Every argument was unavailing.
Sybil appeared inflexible.

"You love me as you have ever loved me?" said she, at length.

"A thousand-fold more fervently," replied Luke; "put it to the test."

"How if I dare to do so? Consider well: I may ask too much."

"Name it. If it be not to surrender you, by my mother's body I will obey
you."

"I would propose an oath."

"Ha!"

"A solemn, binding oath, that; if you wed me not, you will not wed
another. Ha! do you start? Have I appalled you?"

"I start? I will take it. Hear me--by----"

"Hold!" exclaimed a voice behind them. "Do not forswear yourself." And
immediately afterwards the sexton made his appearance. There was a
malignant