Anxious to solve a mystery, Gray said hurriedly, "You have lost a ring Murielle?"
"My ring--ah, yes, and an omen of evil I deemed that loss to be; for it was the betrothal ring you gave me at the Thorns of the Carlinwark. It was lost two nights ago--or abstracted from me----"
"The latter most likely--but permit me to restore it," said he, tenderly kissing her pretty hand; "it nearly lured me to my death, for now I verily believe that a deadly snare was set for me."
"Oh, what is this you tell me?" she asked with alarm.
"A snare? Oh, it is impossible, since none know that you are here, but our lord the abbot and I."
"But others, Murielle, _do_ know," replied Gray, and he briefly related the affair of the preceding evening; the visit of Carl Langfanger with the ring and the message as from herself; the delays which had happily occurred, and how he had reached the Wayside Cross too late for the purpose of his secret enemies, but strangely enough in time to save Achanna from a mutilation and death, which were no doubt intended for another. Murielle was stupefied.
"Achanna--say you this man was James Achanna?" sobbed Murielle, becoming very pale and trembling.
"Certainly 'twas he; oh, there is no mistaking that hateful visage of his."
"Then you are indeed lost!" said she, clasping her hands; but the abbot who had hitherto remained silent and gloomy, patted her head kindly, and said--"My own good daughter, hearken to me; trust in Heaven and hope--hope, the friend of happiness."
"But hope, Father Abbot, will desert us, unless----" said Gray, hesitating, as he turned imploringly to Murielle.
"Her ring is here; a betrothal ring it is, and a wedding-ring it shall be," continued Gray with increasing vehemence, as his voice with his emotion became deeper. "Good father abbot, my kinsman and my friend, you who knew and loved my father and mother well, you who were the guide and mentor of both, even as you are of me, will not hear me now in vain! The dangerous schemes of this ambitious earl----"
"Enough, enough," interrupted the abbot gloomily, as he waved his hand; "to my sorrow and fear I know them all, and own they terrify me."
"Then, to save our young king from many deadly perils, and our country from civil war--to save this miserable Duke Robert from the block on which his father perished--to save the house of Douglas from destruction, and, more than all, to save herself from misery, Murielle must wed me!"