ke my last farewell, and with
it my thanks for your truly fraternal love.'

'It is now your duty to interfere, Mac Donalbain,' cried Arwed,
earnestly. 'Without Christine I dare not appear before her father. The
intelligence that she has persisted in remaining here would cause the
old man's death, and he has not deserved that from you. Therefore
dissolve the magic spell you have cast around her, and give back the
daughter to her father.'

'My crimes have forever loosed the bands which bound us,' said Mac
Donalbain, with almost suffocating sorrow, to his wife. 'Therefore
leave me now, Christine. It would only increase my misery to know that
it was shared by you.'

'I do not believe it, Mac Donalbain,' answered the resolute woman.
'That the society, the sympathy, the consolations, of a being who
stands in so near a relation that henceforth she will only live and
breathe for you, must lighten your sufferings, I am fully convinced;
and in despite of your generous untruth I remain your companion.'

'Well, then,' cried Mac Donalbain, wildly, 'if you will at all events
remain the wife of a condemned criminal, you must respect the husband's
authority. The wife owes obedience to the husband, and I command you to
return to your father!'

'You cannot command me to do that,' answered Christine. 'I am your
wedded wife. I have never given you cause to be dissatisfied with me,
but have always faithfully adhered to you, up to this sad moment. You
have no right to separate yourself from me without my consent, and by
Almighty God I will never give it!'

'Be merciful, as our Father in Heaven is merciful!'
said the preacher to the weeping Arwed. 'So far as I understand this
sad history, it appears, even to me, better to permit the unhappy woman
to remain with her husband. What but severe reproof and bitter scorn
can she now expect in the upper world? Here, on the contrary, she can
perhaps preserve a distracted mind from despair and lead it to true
repentance and amendment, which is always a commendable work and
acceptable to God.'

'How can I venture,' rejoined Arwed, 'to leave the poor woman here,
helpless, amid the horrors of nature and the outcasts of society, whose
destiny her husband must share?'

'She shall reside in my house,' promised the preacher; 'and together
with my good wife I will make every possible effort to render her yoke
easy and her burden light. Confide her to me, sir officer, and I will
have a father's care