THE SMUGGLER. 297 



offered it; I knew your noble, generous heart. I knew that 

 wealth would make no difference to him I loved, and offered 

 to resign everything. My father, even before he came hither, 

 offered him my sister; offered to make her the sacrifice, as she 

 is bound by no promises, and to give her an equal portion; 

 but it was all refused." 



" Then there is some other object," said her lover; " some 

 object that may, perhaps, tend even to more misery than you 

 dream of, Edith. Believe me, my beloved, oh! believe me, 

 did I but see how I could deliver you, were I sure that any 

 act of mine would give you peace, no sacrifice on my part 

 would seem too great. At present, however, I see nothing- 

 clearly, all is darkness and shadow around. I know not, that 

 if I give you back your promise, and free you from your vow, 

 that I shall not be contributing to make you wretched. How, 

 then, am I to act? You are sure, dear one, that you have 

 not consented?" 



" Quite sure," answered Edith; "and it so happened, that 

 there was one who heard my words as well as my father. He, 

 indeed, took them as consent, and hurried away to Mr. Rad- 

 ford, without giving me time to recover and say more. Head 

 that, Harry," and she put the note her father had left into his 

 hands. 



"It is fortunate you were heard by another," replied Lay- 

 ton. "Hark! there is your uncle's carriage coming. Four 

 days, did he say; four days? Well, then, dear Edith, will you 

 trust in me? Will you leave your fate in the hands of one 

 who will do anything on earth for your happiness? and will you 

 never doubt, though you may be kept in suspense, that I will 

 so act as to deliver you, if I can, without bringing ruin on 

 your father." 



" It is worse than ruin," answered Edith, with the tears 

 rolling down her cheeks, " it is death. But I will trust to you, 

 Henry; I will trust implicitly. But tell me how to act, tell 

 me what I am to do." 



" Leave this matter as it is," answered her lover, hearing 

 Mr. Croyland's carriage stop at the door; " your father has 

 snatched too eagerly at your words. Perhaps he has done so 

 to gain time: but, at all events, the fault is his, not yours. 

 If he speaks to you on the subject, you must tell the truth, 

 and say you did not consent, but in everything else be passive; 



