294 THE SMUGGLER. 



some time ago, as a perfect stranger, under the name of Cap- 

 tain Osborn. You were not here then ; and I thought I could 

 not in honour come under his roof, when I found you were here, 

 without telling him who I really was. He appointed this day 

 to meet me at Woodchurch at two; and I dared not venture, 

 after all that has passed between your family and mine, to 

 seek you in his dwelling, ere I had seen and explained myself 

 to him. I knew you were here: I gazed up at these windows 

 with a yearning of the heart that nearly overcame my resolu- 

 tion." 



"I saw you gaze, Harry," answered Edith; "and I say 

 still, would that you had come! Yet you were right. It 

 might have saved me much misery; bat you were right. And 

 now listen to the fate that is before me; to the choice I have 

 to make, as far as I can explain it, and yet what words can I 

 use? But it must be done. I must not leave anything un- 

 performed that can prevent poor Edith Croyland from becom- 

 ing an object of hatred and contempt in Henry Lay ton's eyes. 

 Little as I can do to defend myself, I must do it." 



She paused, gazed up on high for a moment, and then laid 

 her hand upon his. 



"Henry I do love you," she said. "Nay, more, I am 

 yours, plighted to you by bonds I cannot and I dare not break; 

 vows, I mean, the most solemn, as well as the ties of long 

 affection. Yet, if I wed you, I am miserable for life. Self- 

 reproach, eternal self-reproach, the most terrible of all things; 

 to which no other mental or corporeal pain can ever reach, 

 would prey upon my heart for ever, and bear me down into 

 the grave. Peace, rest, I should have none. A voice would 

 be for ever howling in my ear a name that would poison sleep, 

 and make each waking moment an hour of agony. I can tell 

 you no more on this side of the question; but so it is. It 

 seems fated that I should bring misery one way or another 

 upon him who is dearest to me." 



" I cannot comprehend,'" exclaimed Layton, in surprise. 

 " Your father has heard, I suppose, that I am here, and has 

 menaced you with his curse?" 



"Oh, no!" answered Edith; "far from it. He was here 

 but now; he spoke of you, Henry, as you deserve. Pie told 

 me how he had loved you and esteemed you in your young 

 clays; how, though angry at first at our rash engagement, he 



