peared from
view. An instant after, she emerged into the open air. She stood within
the roofless hall. It was filled with sunshine--with the fresh breath of
morn. The ivied ruins, the grassy floor, the blue vault of heaven,
seemed to greet her with a benignant smile. All was _riant_ and
rejoicing--all, save her heart. Amid such brightness, her sorrow seemed
harsh and unnatural; as she felt the glad influence of day, she was
scarcely able to refrain from tears. It was terrible to leave this
beautiful world, that blue sky, that sunshine, and all she loved--so
young, so soon.

Entering a low arch that yawned within the wall, she vanished like a
ghost at the approach of morn.

_CHAPTER IX_

_THE PHILTER_

Thou hast practised on her with foul charms--
Abused her delicate youth with drugs and minerals.

SHAKSPEARE: _Othello_.

To return to Eleanor Mowbray. In a state of mind bordering upon
distraction, she rushed to her mother, and, flinging her arms wildly
round her neck, besought her to protect her. Mrs. Mowbray gazed
anxiously upon the altered countenance of her daughter, but a few
moments relieved her from much of her uneasiness.--The expression of
pain gradually subsided, and the look of vacuity was succeeded by one of
frenzied excitement. A film had, for an instant or two, dimmed her eyes;
they now gleamed with unnatural lustre. She smiled--the smile was
singular; it was not the playful, pleasurable lighting up of the face
that it used to be; but it _was_ a smile, and the mother's heart was
satisfied.

Mrs. Mowbray knew not to what circumstance she could attribute this
wondrous change. She looked at the priest. He was more apt in divining
the probable cause of the sudden alteration in Eleanor's manner.

"What if she has swallowed a love-powder?" said he, approaching Mrs.
Mowbray, and speaking in a whisper. "I have heard of such abominable
mixtures; indeed, the holy St. Jerome himself relates an instance of
similar sorcery, in his life of Hilarius; and these people are said to
compound them."

"It may be so," replied Mrs. Mowbray, in the same tone. "I think that
the peculiar softness in the eye is more than natural."

"I will at least hazard an experiment, to attest the truth or fallacy of
my supposition," returned the father. "Do you see your destined
bridegroom yonder?" continued he, addressing Eleanor.

She followed with her eyes in the dir