the fetters, against which, Morton, thunderstruck by this intelligence, no longer offered the least resistance.
"My life begged of him, and by her!—ay—ay-put on the irons-my limbs shall not refuse to bear what has entered into my very soul—My life begged by Edith, and begged of Evandale!"
"Ay, and he has power to grant it too," said Bothwell—"He can do more with the Colonel than any man in the regiment."
And as he spoke he and his party led their prisoner towards the hall. In passing behind the seat of Edith the unfortunate prisoner heard enough, as he conceived, of the broken expressions which passed between Edith and Lord Evandale to confirm all that the soldier had told him. That moment made a singular and instantaneous revolution in his character. The depth of despair to which his love and fortunes were reduced, the peril in which his life appeared to stand, the transference of Edith's affections, her interces-
