In a moment, Hildebrand was denied all chance of escape.

“Thy machinations are defeated—­thy villanies revealed, and vengeance demands a hasty recompense.”

Hildebrand prostrated himself on the ground in the most abject humiliation, and besought mercy.

“I will not harm thee, wretch,” exclaimed the gallant knight:  “to a higher power I leave the work of retribution.  The ministers of justice await thee at my castle.  I came hither first to seek my wife!—­Lead the way; thou shalt be witness to our meeting—­wife, children, all.  Our bliss will to thee be misery that the most refined tortures could not inflict.  On—­on.”

Hildebrand, with imbecile agony, grasped at the very stones for succour.  He then rushed towards the bridge, and, ere his purpose could be anticipated, with one wild yell, precipitated himself into the waters!

A few lines will suffice by way of explanation to this unlooked-for termination of their sufferings.

When Lady Fairfax fled from the castle, in order to elude his search,—­for Hildebrand had the audacity to threaten by force to make her his wife,—­she threw off her cloak and head-dress, laying them on the river’s brink that it might appear as though she had accomplished her own destruction.  To the care of the faithful Alice she had committed her children, and likewise the secret of her concealment.  Alice was in continual correspondence with her unfortunate mistress; and great was the joy and exultation with which she communicated the arrival of a messenger from her lord, whom she had long mourned as dead.  Providentially, no interview took place between Hildebrand and the stranger on the night of his arrival; and sufficient time intervened to enable Lady Fairfax to make a desperate attempt, in the hope of gaining possession of the papers for which he had been sent.  She well knew Hildebrand would not relinquish the possession of credentials that might ensure his lord’s return.  It was Lady Fairfax who had alarmed him the same night by her appearance in his chamber.  She hoped to have found him asleep; but was enabled to get possession of the writings through his timidity and surprise.  With these she met the envoy, as he was returning from the castle.  Disclosing all the tortuous and daring villany of Hildebrand, she committed the real documents to his care, instructing him at the same time to lay before her sovereign the narrative of her wrongs.  Soon was the captivity of Sir Henry terminated; and joy, heightened by recollection of the past, and chastened by the severity of their misfortunes, attended them through the remainder of their earthly career.

[Illustration:  SOUTH PORT.

Drawn by G. Pickering.  Engraved by Edw^d Finden.]

THE PHANTOM VOICE.

    “He heerde a sunde but noughte he zee. 
      No touche upon his fleshe ther came;
    Bot a swedderin witide smote heavilee,
      And heavilee brenn’d the fleckerin’ flame.”