Lord Avonleigh, at a hint from his companion, followed his daughter into the chapel, and said—"If, madam, I permit you, however unworthy, to return to your chamber, there I expect you to remain. I shall plead indisposition as the cause of your absence."
Francesca bent her head in token of acquiescence, and hastened towards the little winding staircase. As she ascended, she heard her father lock the door at the foot. "Alas!" thought she, "how useless the precaution! All that my heart holds dear is now in the Castle."
She had scarcely been in the chamber ten minutes, and had not moved from the seat on which she had sunk, exhausted and dizzy, when the door opened, and Lord Avonleigh appeared. "I just wished to inform you," said he coldly, "that even your very hope of my pardon depends on your not interfering with my plans. I have given orders that no one, excepting your own attendant, approaches your chamber. I advise obedience, for your own sake; it is your own good that I have in view." And without waiting for a reply, he withdrew, and Francesca heard him lock the door and take out the key.
"I am indeed a prisoner," exclaimed she, as she sank back hopeless in her chair, more alive
