iend or foe, he who touches me shall have a bullet in his
gizzard. Here I am, pal Peter; and here are my two chums, Rust and
Wilder. Cut the whid."

"Have we license to pass scathless now?" asked the sexton; "or shall we
make good our way?"

"You shall not pass," cried Barbara, furiously. "Think you to rob me of
my prey? What, cowards! do you hesitate? Ha!"

"Kindle the torches," cried several voices. "We fight not in the dark."

A pistol was flashed. The torch again blazed. Its light fell upon a
tumultuous group.

"Seize the bride," cried Barbara.

"Hold!" exclaimed a voice from the altar. The voice was that of Sybil.

Her hand was clasped in that of Luke. Eleanor had fainted in the arms of
the gipsy girl Handassah.

"Are you my bride?" ejaculated Luke, in dismay.

"Behold the ring upon my finger! Your own hand placed it there."

"Betrayed!" screamed Alan, in a voice of anguish. "My schemes
annihilated--myself undone--my enemies triumphant--lost! lost! All is
destroyed--all!"

"Joy! joy!" exclaimed Mrs. Mowbray: "my child is saved."

"And _mine_ destroyed," groaned Barbara. "I have sworn by the cross to
slay the bride--and Sybil is that bride."

_CHAPTER XII_

_ALAN ROOKWOOD_

The wolf shall find her grave, and scrape it up;
Not to devour the corse, but to discover
The horrid murther.

WEBSTER.

"Bravo! capital!" cried Turpin, laughing loud and long as an Olympian
deity; "has this simple wench outwitted you all; turned the tables upon
the whole gang of plotters, eh? Excellent! ha, ha, ha! The next time you
wed, Sir Luke, let me advise you not to choose a wife in the dark. A man
should have all his senses about him on these occasions. Make love when
the liquor's in; marry when it's out, and, above all, with your eyes
open. This beats cock-fighting--ha, ha, ha!--you must excuse me; but,
upon my soul, I can't help it." And his laughter seemed
inextinguishable.

"Take your men without," whispered Alan Rookwood; "keep watch as before,
and let the discharge of a pistol bespeak the approach of danger as
agreed upon; much yet remains to be done here."

"How so?" asked Dick; "it seems to me the job's entirely settled--if not
to _your_ satisfaction. I'm always ready to oblige my friend, Sir Luke;
but curse me if I'd lend my help to any underhand work. Steer clear of
foul play, or Dick Turpin holds no hand with you. As to th