said he, with an obvious mixture of forced gaiety and real chagrin, "that I was disturbing a lady, I fear that my gallantry would have interfered with my loyalty."
Francesca's only answer was the rejection of his proffered aid; and she sprang to her feet alone. Passing the Duke as if she did not even see him, she approached Evelyn, on whose wrists the shackles already placed precluded any attempt at escape, and, putting her hand through his arm, stood quietly by his side.
"Leave him!" exclaimed Lord Avonleigh, who now started forward breathless with anger. "Foolish and obstinate girl! How dare you hold communication with an outlaw and a traitor?"
"I am his wife!" said Francesca—while her calm dark eyes met those of her father unshrinkingly, as if to confirm her words—"I am his wife!”
This brief phrase fell like a thunderbolt on all around. Buckingham looked livid with rage;—here ended his hopes of uniting the estates of Avonleigh and Evelyn. A barrier, impassable as the tomb, was now between him and Francesca: his rival might perish—but there he was, a stumbling-block in his path for ever. And, with that mixture of good and evil blended in all natures,
