n setting human emotions at naught, which he was said to feel--which I
feel now. Within these halls I seem to breathe an atmosphere congenial
to me. I visit what I oft have visited in my dreams; or as in a state of
pre-existence. Methinks, as I gaze on you, I could almost deem myself
Sir Reginald, and you his bride, the Lady Eleanor. Our fates were
parallel: _she_ was united to her lord by ties of hatred--by a _vow_--_a
bridal vow_! So are you to me. And she could ne'er escape him--could
ne'er throw off her bondage--nor shall you. I claim the fulfilment of
_your_ oath; you are _mine_."

"Never, never!" shrieked Eleanor, struggling to disengage herself. But
Luke laughed at her feeble efforts. Handassah stood by, a passive
spectatress of the scene, with her arms folded upon her bosom.

"You refuse compliance," said Luke, scornfully. "Have you no hopes of
Heaven, no fears of perdition, that you dare to violate your vow?
Bethink you of the awful nature of that obligation; of the life that was
laid down to purchase it; of the blood which will cry out for vengeance
'gainst the _murderess_, should you hesitate. By that blood-cemented
sacrament, I claim you as my own. You are mine." And he dragged her
towards the opening.

Eleanor uttered a long and terrific scream.

"Be silent, on your life," added he, searching for the dagger given to
him by Alan Rookwood, when, as his hand sought the weapon, Eleanor
escaped from his grasp, and fled towards the door. But Handassah had
anticipated her intention. The key was withdrawn from the lock, and the
wretched maiden vainly tried to open it.

At this instant Turpin appeared at the sliding panel.

"Quick, quick!" cried he, impatiently--"despatch, in the devil's name.
The house is alarmed. I hear young Ranulph's voice in the gallery."

"Ranulph!" shrieked Eleanor--"then I am saved," and she redoubled her
outcries for assistance.

Luke again seized his victim. Her hands clutched so convulsively fast in
her despairing energy against the handle of the door that he could not
tear her thence. By this time Ranulph Rookwood, who had caught her
reiterated screams for help, was at the entrance. He heard her
struggles; he heard Luke's threats--his mockery--his derisive
laughter--but vainly, vainly did he attempt to force it open. It was of
the strongest oak, and the bolts resisted all his efforts. A board alone
divided him from his mistress. He could hear her sobs and gasps. He saw,
from the