1829-3 a Tale of the Reigfi of Mary. 387 



" It is not only hope, delusive hope, I would offer you," said the 

 monk, in the same calm tone in which he had hitherto spoken; " I would 

 fain bring your sorrows to a close ; I would fain save you from the suf- 

 ferings of to-morrow, by leading you back to the true worship." 

 " Mj path is chosen for eternity," replied Esther, cahnly. 

 " And leads unto perdition," rejoined the monk. 



" I trust my sorrows here," said the forsaken prisoner, " will meet a 

 more blest reward." 



" Alas !" said her companion, " you have built your house upon the 

 sand, and the rain shall descend, and the floods come, and the winds 

 blow, and beat upon that house, and it shall fall, and thou be buried in 

 its ruins." 



" I\Iy lamp may glimmer faintly, but I walk according to its light," 

 replied Esther. " My spirit knows of no crime that it hath not deeply 

 mourned." 



"Alas! alas! that such a mind should have been thus perverted," 

 exclaimed the monk, as he stood awhile intently gazing on the being 

 before him, who, exhausted by emotion, .had again sunk back against the 

 rugged wall. Tears stood in his eyes, and at length, as if overpowered 

 by irrepressible feeling, his countenance suddenly lost the stern expres- 

 sion it had hitherto worn, and sinking at the feet of the prisoner, he 

 exclaimed, " Oh fain would I have saved you in this world, and the 

 next ! But since, alas, the voice of exhortation hath availed nothing in 

 converting thy stubborn spirit, let the language of affection at least per- 

 suade you to conceal those opinions for awhile, which else must draw 

 down destruction." 



" Strange man !" replied Esther, gazing on her companion with 

 astonishment. " Arise, and begone," she added sternly ; '' I would be 

 left alone. The little remaining to me of life must be more fitly used 

 than in this idle altercation." 



The monk arose — Init he departed not, and sighed deeply as he flung 

 back his cowl and said, " Alas, hath time so changed me, that you know 

 me no longer ?" 



" Frederick ! my brother ! and at such an hour !" exclaimed the cap- 

 tive, who, after gazing wildly for a moment on his well-remembered 

 features, was the next instant locked in his embrace. 



" All have not then forgotten me," were the first words .she uttered. 

 " Oh, Frederick, I have suffered much and alone. But complaint now 

 matters little," she added, suddenly checking herself; and then, as if 

 overpowered by the presence of one who sympathised in her affliction, 

 shff pressed her hands before her face and wept aloud. 



" But shall do so no longer," replied her brnther, fervently. " Thy 

 heaviest griefs are past." 



" Tlie scene draws near a close," was the sole reply of the prisoner, 

 who seemed to find comfort in the very certainty of her danger. 



" Nay, say not so," returned the priest ; " long ere this, had I known 

 your abode, I would have flown to soothe your afflictions ; and though 

 •now, alas, I find our creeds are different, still our affections are the same. 

 I have credit at court; I have influence even with your judge, the hard- 

 hearted Bonner, and though to-morrow is fixed for your execution, pro- 

 mise only silence, and I will attest your recantation of your heresies." 

 " Far rather would I die a hundred deaths !" exclaimed Esther, 



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