ill. Ha! ha! If we do not bring him to the gallows quickly, or

release him, he will spare us the trouble.'

A bitter cry fell from my lips. I seemed to be in a hideous nightmare.

The man in the dungeon started, but did not turn round.

'Hubert! Hubert!' I called.

No answer. The prisoner lay quite still now.

'He does not hear,' said the harsh voice by my side. 'He is farther off than you think.'

I knew he lied, for had I not seen the man start when I first cried out? Was he Sir Hubert? I strained my eyes, but could not see if it was he. Why did he not turn round? Sir Hubert would have turned in a moment at my cry.

'Sir Hubert Blair,' I shouted, 'it is I--Margery Brown--will you not look at me? Turn round. Please--please turn round.'

I spoke in vain. The prisoner did not turn. He stayed in the same position.

'Oh, why does he not turn? I want to see his face,' I said.

Sir Claudius regarded me sternly.

'I said you might see, but not speak to him,' he said; 'and I only meant you to look at him.'

'But I want to see his face,' I said. 'I must see his face. Please ask him to turn towards us.'

Sir Claudius looked annoyed. At last he said with evident reluctance--

'He cannot turn round. He is chained in that position to an iron staple in the wall.'

I burst into tears. It is a woman's refuge when words fail her, and sometimes it softens the beholder, but not in this case; the man standing by my side possessed a heart of stone.

'Tears do no good, madam,' said he. 'It is perfectly useless for you to stand there weeping.'

'How long has he been chained there?' I asked at length.

'A day or two,' answered Sir Claudius airily. 'If you really wish him to be liberated,' he said, 'you have it in your power to set him free--otherwise, as I said, to-morrow morning--the gallows.'

'Oh, no! No!' cried I. 'Not that! Not that!'

'But I say it must be that, unless----'

'Tell me,' said I, 'does he know what fate is in store for him?'

'No. He does not know yet. But I can tell him now. He will hear my voice if I shout.'

'Oh, but do not shout it,' I exclaimed heroically, resolving that if I could prevent it Sir Hubert should never hear that dreadful sentence.

'Then you consent to marry me?'

'Will Sir Hubert be liberated immediately if I do?' asked I.

By this time I was certain that the prisoner was indeed my poor lover, for my straining eyes could discern that he had black hair and that his size and figure corresponded exactly. Moreover his dress appeared to be exactly the same as that Sir Hubert wore when last I saw him. My one desire, therefore, was to save him from the gallows.

'Immediately. I guarantee that he shall be set free immediately.'

'If I consent, may I be allowed to tell him the good news about his freedom?'

The other was silent. He seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of the matter.

'Please allow me,' I entreated.

'Very well. If you promise to become my wife?'

I bowed--not being able to speak. The next moment I cried triumphantly--

'Hubert! Hubert! You are about to be set free. You are about to be liberated. I, your Margery, have effected this. Never forget me.' My voice broke into sobs, and, weeping bitterly, I suffered my companion to lead me away.

Was it imagination, or did I really hear an anxious voice calling after us as Sir Claudius led me away from the subterranean hall and up a steep flight of stone steps? My companion declared that it was nothing but the echo of our own footsteps, yet I had my doubts.