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A shivering like that of an ague-fit again shook the agitated Elinor, who, ejaculating, "What farce is this?—Fool! fool! shall I thus sleepily be duped?" looked keenly around for her lost weapon.
"Duped? no, Madam," cried Ellis, in a tone impressive of veracity: "if I had the honour to be better known to Miss Joddrel, one assertion, I flatter myself, would suffice: my word is given; it has never yet been broken!"
While this declaration, though softened by a sigh the most melancholy, struck cold to the heart of Harleigh, its effect upon Elinor was that of an extacy which seemed the offspring of frenzy. "Do I awake, then," she cried, "from agony and death—agony, impossible to support! death, willing and welcome! to renewed life? to an interesting, however deplorable, existence? is my fate in harmony with the fate of Harleigh? Has he, even he! given his soul,—his noble soul!—to one who esteems and admires
