"I lay stupefied at first.Then horror fell on me, and I rose, but stood rooted there, shaking from head to foot.At last I found myself looking down into that fearsome gap, and my very hair did bristle as I peered.And then, I remember, I turned quite calm, and made up my mind to die sword in hand.For I saw no man must know this their bloody secret and live.And I said, 'Poor Margaret!' And I took out of my bosom, where they lie ever, our marriage lines, and kissed them again and again.And I pinned them to my shirt again, that they might lie in one grave with me, if die I must.And I thought, 'All our love and hopes to end thus!'"Eli."Whisht all! Their marriage lines? Give her time! But no word.I can bear no chat.My poor lad!"During the long pause that ensued Catherine leaned forward and passed something adroitly from her own lap under her daughter's apron who sat next her.
"Presently thinking, all in a whirl, of all that ever passed between us, and taking leave of all those pleasant hours, I called to mind how one day at Sevenbergen thou taughtest me to make a rope of straw.Mindest thou? The moment memory brought that happy day hack to me, I cried out very loud: 'Margaret gives me a chance for life even here.' I woke from my lethargy.I seized on the straw and twisted it eagerly, as thou didst teach me, but my fingers trembled and delayed the task.Whiles I wrought I heard a door open below.That was a terrible moment.Even as I twisted my rope I got to the window and looked down at the great arms of the mill coming slowly up, then passing, then turning less slowly down, as it seemed; and I thought, 'They go not as when there is wind: yet, slow or fast, what man rid ever on such steed as these, and lived.Yet,' said I, 'better trust to them and God than to ill men.' And I prayed to Him whom even the wind obeyeth.
"Dear Margaret, I fastened my rope, and let myself gently down, and fixed my eye on that huge arm of the mill, which then was creeping up to me, and went to spring on to it.But my heart failed me at the pinch.And methought it was not near enow.And it passed calm and awful by.I watched for another; they were three.
And after a little while one crept up slower than the rest methought.And I with my foot thrust myself in good time somewhat out from the wall, and crying aloud 'Margaret!' did grip with all my soul the wood-work of the sail, and that moment was swimming in the air."Giles."WELL DONE! WELL DONE!"
Motion I felt little; but the stars seemed to go round the sky, and then the grass came up to me nearer and nearer, and when the hoary grass was quite close I was sent rolling along it as if hurled from a catapult, and got up breathless, and every point and tie about me broken.I rose, but fell down again in agony.I had but one leg I could stand on."Catherine."Eh! dear! his leg is broke, my boy's leg is broke.""And e'en as I lay groaning, I heard a sound like thunder.It was the assassins running up the stairs.The crazy old mill shook under them.They must have found that I had not fallen into their bloody trap, and were running to despatch me.Margaret, I felt no fear, for I had now no hope.I could neither run nor hide; so wild the place, so bright the moon.I struggled up all agony and revenge, more like some wounded wild beast than your Gerard.
Leaning on my sword hilt I hobbled round; and swift as lighting, or vengeance, I heaped a great pile of their hay and wood at the mill door; then drove my dagger into a barrel of their smuggled spirits, and flung it on; then out with my tinder and lighted the pile.'This will bring true men round my dead body,' said I.
'Aha!' I cried, 'think you I'll die alone, cowards, assassins!
