THE SMUGGLER. 363 



said, inadvertently, perhaps, crossed my mind; and, though I 

 felt that I could go at any hour to consult a friend in such 

 terrible circumstances, I could not, no, I could not do so with 

 a with one You see what harm you have done by such 

 fine speeches 1" 



She thought that by her last words she had guarded her- 

 self securely from any immediate consequences of this unreserved 

 confession; but she was mistaken. She merely hurried on 

 what might yet have rested for a day or two. 



Sir Edward Digby took her other hand also, and held it 

 gently, yet firmly, as if he was afraid she should escape from 

 him. u Zara," he said, "dear Zara, I have done harm, by 

 speaking too much, or not enough. I must remedy it by the 

 only means in my power. Listen to me for one moment, for 

 I cannot go till all is said. You must cast off this reserve, you 

 must act perfectly freely with me; I seek to bind you by no 

 engagement, I will bear my doubt; I will not construe any- 

 thing you do as an acceptance of my suit; but you must know, 

 nay, you do know, you do feel, that I am your lover. It was 

 doubt of your own sensations towards me, that made you hesi- 

 tate; it was fear that you should commit yourself to that 

 which you might, on consideration, be indisposed to ratify. 

 You thought that I might plead such confidence as a tacit 

 promise, and that made you pause. But hear me, as I pledge 

 myself, upon my honour, as a gentleman, that if you act fear- 

 lessly and freely in the cause in which we are both engaged 

 if you confide in me, trust in me, and never hesitate to put 

 yourself, as you may think, entirely in my power, I will never 

 look upon anything as plighting you to me in the slightest de- 

 gree, till I hear you say the words, 4 Digby, I am yours,' if 

 ever that happy day should come. In the mean time, however, 

 to set you entirely free from all apprehension of what others 

 may say, I hold myself bound to you by every promise that 

 man can make; and this very day I will ask your father's ap- 

 probation of my suit. But I am well aware, though circum- 

 stances have shown me, in a marvellous short time, that your 

 heart and mind is equal to your beauty, yet it is not to be ex- 

 pected that such a being can be won in a few short days, and 

 that I must wait in patience, not without hope, indeed, but 

 with no presumption. By your conduct, at least, I shall know 

 whether I have gained your esteem; your love, perhaps, may 



