information respecting him, and two days were wasted in these anxious and fruitless inquiries.
“Then be it so,” exclaimed the unhappy young man; and in a fit of despair he resolved to cast the magic balls in the forest. “My days,” he added, “are numbered to me; this night will I seek the cross road. Into its silent and solitary recess no one will dare to intrude; and the terrible circle will I not leave till the fearful work shall be done.”
But when the shadows of evening fell upon the earth, and after William had provided lead, bullet-mould, and coals, for his nocturnal occupation, he was gently detained by Bertram, who felt, he said, so severe an oppression, that he entreated him to remain in his chamber during the night. Catherine offered her services, but they were, to her astonishment, declined. “At any other time,” said her father, “I should have preferred you, but to-night it must be William. I shall be happier if he will remain with me.”
William hesitated. He grew sick in his inmost heart. He would have objected, but Catherine’s entreaties were so earnest, her voice so irresistible, that he had nothing to oppose against her wishes. He remained in the chamber, and in the morning Bertram’s dark fears had faded, and
