THE ELOllAL TELEGRAPH. 89 
happy as when my class held uncon- 
demned intercommunion with the 
angels. I burned to manifest myself 
to them. I would have consented to 
ten years’ imprisonment in the heart 
of the knotted oak, to have conversed 
with them familiarly for ten minutes. 
But the dark and the blood-stained 
crisis was drawing near. It was in 
vain that I had thrown the summer 
mists before the eyes of the house¬ 
hold, that I had made rural noises to 
attract away their approaching steps. 
They had been discovered, they had 
been watched. The purpose of Sir 
Eustace was rapid and terrible. 
“He knew not the intruder upon his 
i 3 
