f the man who had thus inspired him with new life. The door gave way
at the pressure of his hand, but the moment he entered the room, the
old man sprung from his bed with a cry of "Traeidor" (traitor), and made
straight at Edgar with a drawn dagger. Edgar succeeded in evading the
well-aimed thrust by a skilful movement, and in grasping the old man,
and holding him down on his bed.

While he thus held him, for he had but little strength at the time, he
implored him in the most touching language, to forgive the stormy
fashion of his entrance: he assured him that he was no traitor; but
that on the contrary, what he had heard him sing had lighted up all the
rage, the inconsolable pain, which had been tearing his breast asunder
into an unslakeable desire for combat. He longed to hurry to Spain,
there to fight for the freedom of the country. The old man gazed
fixedly at him, and said, "Can it be possible?" and embraced Edgar,
who, naturally, continued his assurances that nothing could induce him
to forego his resolve, at the same time throwing his dagger down on the
ground.

Edgar now learned that the old gentleman's name was Baldassare de Luna,
and that he belonged to one of the most noble families of Spain. He was
helpless and friendless, and had the prospect, unalleviated, of
dragging out a miserable existence, far from home, without a friend or
pecuniary resource. It was some time ere Edgar could succeed in
infusing any hope or comfort into his heart: but when, at length, he
most solemnly undertook to arrange for their escape to England
together, new life appeared to circulate in the Spaniard's veins. He
was no longer the old invalid, but an enthusiastic youth, breathing out
defiance to his oppressors. Edgar kept his word. He succeeded in
evading the vigilance of the spies, and in escaping with Baldassare de
Luna to England. But it was not the will of fate that this brave and
luckless man should see his native land again. He was prostrated by
another attack of illness, and died in London, in Edgar's arms. A
spirit of prophecy gave him to see the coming glory of his rescued
country. Amid the latest prayerful whisperings which issued with
difficulty from his lips stiffening in death, Edgar distinguished the
word "Vittoria," and an expression of heavenly beatitude glowed on de
Luna's countenance.

At the time when Souchet's victorious force was threatening to bear
down all opposition and rivet the shameful foreign yoke mo