ing her eyes
from mine.

The tone, the look that accompanied these words, melted me at once. I
rose,--I clasped Isora to my heart.

"You are a strange compound, my own fairy queen; but these lips, this
cheek, those eyes, are not fit features for a heroine."

"Morton, if I had less determination in my heart, I could not love you
so well."

"But tell me," I whispered, with a smile, "where is this weapon on which
you rely so strongly?"

"Here!" answered Isora, blushingly; and, extricating herself from
me, she showed me a small two-edged dagger, which she wore carefully
concealed between the folds of her dress. I looked over the bright, keen
blade, with surprise, and yet with pleasure, at the latent resolution of
a character seemingly so soft. I say with pleasure, for it suited well
with my own fierce and wild temper. I returned the weapon to her, with a
smile and a jest.

"Ah!" said Isora, shrinking from my kiss, "I should not have been so
bold, if I only feared danger for myself."

But if, for a moment, we forgot, in the gushings of our affection, the
object of our converse and dispute, we soon returned to it again.
Isora was the first to recur to it. She reminded me of the promise she
required; and she spoke with a seriousness and a solemnity which I found
myself scarcely able to resist.

"But," I said, "if he ever molest you hereafter; if again I find that
bright cheek blanched, and those dear eyes dimmed with tears; and I know
that, in my own house, some one has dared thus to insult its queen,--am
I to be still torpid and inactive, lest a dastard and craven hand should
avenge my assertion of your honour and mine?"

"No, Morton; after our marriage, whenever that be, you will have nothing
to apprehend from him on the same ground as before; my fear for you,
too, will not be what it is now; your honour will be bound in mine, and
nothing shall induce me to hazard it,--no, not even your safety. I have
every reason to believe that, after that event, he will subject me
no longer to his insults: how, indeed, can he, under your perpetual
protection? or, for what cause should he attempt it, if he could? I
shall be then yours,--only and ever yours; what hope could, therefore,
then nerve his hardihood or instigate his intrusions? Trust to me at
that time, and suffer me to--nay, I repeat, promise me that I may--trust
in you now!"

What could I do? I still combated her wish and her request; but her
steadiness and rigidi