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toiled, at the same time most carefully examining the walls as they proceeded.

Claudio knocked at the earthen walls with the hilt of his sword, at distances of a few feet, and Maurice held the light now high and now low, in order that nothing should them in the place.

Suddenly, Claudio paused. "I have trodden upon something hard," said he, "Let us see what it is?"

Maurice held the light close to the ground, and Claudio picked up an ancient key. It was so corroded by the damp ground on which it had lain, that it was of a complete clay colour, and its surface crumbled under the touch of Claudio.

"This key must have been here many years," he said, as he held it to the light.

"We had better retain it," replied Maurice. "Who knows but that it may have been thrown in our way for some good purpose?"

"True," said Claudio. "Corroded and worthless as this piece of old iron appears, it may be the humble means of restoring freedom to some captive."

"Hark!" cried Maurice. "Good heavens! what sound was that?"

A sound reached Claudio�s ears, like the low growling of some wild beast, and before he could bestow a thought upon its particular character, it was succeeded by a yell so loud and so terrific, that it would seem to have proceeded at once from the throats of millions of demons.

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The lantern trembled in the hand of Maurice, and even Claudio staggered backwards against the damp wall of the passages in speechless horror.

"God help us," said Maurice, "or we are lost."

He sank down as he spoke, and the lantern falling from his hand was extinguished, and Claudio found himself in a darkness of which, in the upper air, he had never formed the most distant conception.

CHAPTER XVI.

CAROLINE was awakened from her swoon by hearing a repeated an violent knocking at the door of the ante-room.

She opened her eyes and gazed wildly around her apartment. The grey light of morning was just brightening, the various objects which met her gaze, and the lamp which had been burning on her toilet was upon the point of expiring.

She passed her hand across her brow, for a moment, in an endeavour to recal to her memory the events of the night, for she was surprised to find herself dressed and upon the floor of her room.

Soon�too soon the mind of the fair and innocent Caroline became thoroughly awakened and alive to all the horrors of her situation, she rose from the ground with a beating heart and a feeling of intense mental disquietude.

The knocking continued, and with a tottering step Caroline passed from her chamber into the ante-room, and inquired in a trembling voice, who was there?

"Oh, Miss Caroline, I�m so glad to hear you speak," said Namine, from the other side of the door. "I said to my lady, says I, �dear me madame, I�ll go in the morning before master is stirring, and just tell Miss Caroline never to mind nothing.� So you see, Miss, here I am, and dear heart, as Francisco says�"

"Cease, cease," cried Caroline. "Tell me, how is my poor aunt?"

"Oh, Miss Caroline," said Namine, "she is but very so, so, indeed; the baron has had such a quarrel with her, and all about you, Miss."

"Alas!" cried Caroline, "I am not only persecuted myself, but I am the innocent cause of unhappiness to others."

"Ah, you may say that, Miss," replied Namine, "for, as I said, no longer ago then last night, to Francisco, says I, �I can�t eat, nor drink, nor sleep for thinking of poor Miss Caroline, as is locked up so uncommon barbarous.� �Then,� says Francisco, �beautiful Namine,� says he�that�s what he said Miss,�he�s always saying some nonsense or another."

"I thank you for your sympathy," said Caroline. " Tell my poor aunt

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not to despair; bid her, from me, to be of good cheer, and that Heaven will not desert us. Tell her, Namine, that I am quite well�quite well."

"Oh, Miss, that I am sure you a�n�t," replied Namine, "for you speak quite low and languid like, I declare. I�m sure I could cry my eyes out."

"Go�go, now, Namine," said Caroline. "You expose yourself to danger. What, if the baron should chance to see you!"

"The baron!" cried Namine. "Oh, the ugly wretch."

"Well, well, leave the door Namine, and take my message to my aunt."

"I declare," said Namine, "as for the baron, I could just give his black looking face such a scratch that�oh dear!�oh, dear!"

"What do you here?" Caroline heard asked in the voice of the baron.

"Oh!�oh!" cried Namine. "No�nothing, sir�I�I�oh, dear no�nothing."

"Begone!" cried the baron, in a loud voice. "If I surprise you holding conversation

through the key hole again, your life shall answer for your curiosity."

"Oh, dear no, my lord," said Namine, "I�I was only�nothing�nothing at all."

"Begone!" again cried the baron furiously.

There was now a dead silence of some minutes duration, and Caroline expected every moment to see the door open and the baron make his appearance, but such was not the case, and conjecturing from the stillness that reigned, that he, as well as Namine, had left the spot, she retired back to her chamber.

Caroline directed her first attention to the panel. It was open, but that which faced it, and led into the room of the Count Durlack, was fast closed. With trembling hands Caroline strove to close it, but it resisted all her efforts and, as before, she had no resource but to draw the picture of the mail clad warrior across the opening, and secure it in that position as firmly as she could.

She then seated herself on the side of her couch, and for a time gave way to the most melancholy forebodings of what might be her future fate.

The baron had now thrown off all disguise, and she felt the full anguish of being the prisoner of such a man. "Now," she thought, "that he has dared to commit one act of most unjustifiable arbitrary power, by keeping me a prisoner, his fears of the consequence will prompt him to the commission of any crime. Just Heaven, am I at the mercy of such men as the Baron Zindorf and Count Durlack; men, whose hands are doubtless stained with blood, and whose consciences are already so overloaded with crimes that the voice of remorse is nearly smothered in their breasts? What may they not do? What dare they not attempt? and my poor aunt too, with all the will but not the power to snatch me from destruction. Oh, what can I do? How can I fly from this fearful abode? Alas! I am like some poor fluttering insect caught in the meshes of a web, from which there is no escape. My struggles only suffice to draw my bonds closer around me.

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Where, oh where, shall I find hope?" She buried her head upon the pillow of her couch and burst into tears.

Tears are the climax of grief, but they are the mourner�s greatest blessing�many a heart would break in hopeless misery that is relieved by those drops which are wrung from its despair.

As Caroline wept, a calm feeling came over her mind. Each tear seemed to convey away some portion of the anguish of her mind, and when her overcharged heart had thus relieved itself, her real strength of mind returned, and if she could not contemplate her situation with serenity, she could with calmness.

Her heart likewise whispered to her the name of Claudio.

"Claudio�Claudio," she repeated, and a smile played for a moment like a gleam of pure heavenly sunshine upon a winter�s day across her sweet face,

There was hope in the very sound of that name, and although the smile was succeeded by a blush, which for a moment gave the radiance of health to the pale cheeks of the suffering Caroline, still she repeated the name, which, like a talisman, invigorated her mind and imparted to her heart the balm of peace.

"Claudio�Claudio. Yes, there is hope there. There is hope in Claudio. Forgive me Heaven for my despair. Claudio is brave�noble�handsome."

Again Caroline blushed, and springing from her couch, she hastily arranged the disorder of her dress, and with a firm resolution to trust to Heaven and her own innocence, she determined to seek the turret to see if Claudio and Maurice had returned.

Her fear that Count Durlack might be in the adjoining apartment caused her to tremble before she allowed the massive picture to swing from before the open panel.

There was, however, no other resource. She must visit the turret, for had she not expressly forbidden Claudio to make any attempt to seek her?

With great care, for she dreaded that the least noise might expose her to the hateful persecutions of the count, she allowed the painting to slide from its place.

With the greatest attention she listened for any sound which might proceed from Durlack�s apartment, but all was still. She heard nothing but the anxious and tumultuous beating of her own heart.

Slowly she passed through the open panel, and again paused upon the turret stairs to recover from her agitation, before she ascended them. Then the thought came over her that each moment was full of dangers, for should the baron seek her in her chamber and not find her he might ascend to the turret, and if Claudio and Maurice were there their destruction would be certain, unless by overpowering the baron they chose at once to put an end to his crimes and his life.

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Caroline quickened her steps and in a few moments gained the turret door. Here again she paused and she knocked gently at the door.

No answer was returned to her repeated summonses for admission, and at length she slowly and timidly turned the handle of the lock and opening the old gothic arched door, looked into the apartment. A pang of disappointment shot across her heart. The turret was empty.

Caroline cast her eyes eagerly around her to see if she could note any indications of the presence of any one recently, but nothing new met her gaze but the ponderous iron weight which Claudio and Maurice had unfastened from the under side of the trap-door previous to their descent into the vaults of the castle.

Caroline gazed with surprise at the massive bar of iron, and then a sickening sensation of horror came over her as she thought that it might have been used as a weapon for the destruction of Claudio. She stooped over it and examined it carefully, but perceiving no symptoms of its having been used for any violent purpose her mind became more calm. The trap-door having been disturbed from its rest by Claudio and Maurice, was now more easily distinguishable, and Caroline could plainly perceive where it was situated.

"Oh, Claudio," she cried, "if thou hast, indeed, fallen a victim to the cruel Baron Zindorf, what hope is there for me? There is but one resource. I will make one more effort to escape from the cruel thraldom in which I am placed. My utmost strength and means shall be used to open this trap-door, and, at least, I can but perish in the gloomy vaults of Zindorf, which lie beneath it. To night, if nothing should occur to alter my determination, shell the attempt be made."

Caroline now left the turret, lost in a maze of painful conjectures as to the probable fate of Claudio. His prolonged absence from the turret was most mysterious; she could in no way account for it, but upon the painful supposition that some accident had happened to him and his faithful follower in the vaults, or that they were in the power of the baron.

"Oh, Claudio," she cried, "is it not my duty to seek for thee in those fearful vaults and subterranean passages into which at my solicitation thou hast so chivalrously plunged? Yes, it is; it is a sacred duty�a duty in which Heaven will aid me. Claudio! Claudio! as thou hast perished, so will I perish or save thee."

Scarcely had she reached her own chamber when she heard a key turning in the lock of the ante-room.

The baron or Count Durlack, she doubted not would enter in a moment, and she summoned all her resolution to her aid to sustain her in an interview with either of her merciless persecutors.

The door in a moment opened, and the baron appeared. He seemed, however, to shrink from passing the threshold, but making a sign with his hand to some one behind him, Roland advanced bearing, as before, a tray with refreshments. Roland placed the breakfast, which was ample,

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upon the table, and then, apparently, in obedience to a signal from the baron, he said, in a surly sneering tone of voice, as if unwillingly, "Have you enough refreshment?"

Caroline disdained to answer this question, which she saw was put for the purpose of inducing an answer, which at some future period might b used as a reply to any complaints that she might make of her treatment a Zindorf Castle.

Roland scowled at her, as he perceived that she paid not the least attention to what he said, and, advancing, he laid his large bony hand upon he arm, and said in a voice of thunder, "Have you enough to eat and drink in the Castle of Zindorf?"

Caroline shrunk back from his touch, and with her face crimsoned with indignation, she cried, appealing to the baron,

"Sir, do you suffer the basest of your menials to insult me under the shelter of your own roof? How dare this wretch lay a hand upon me? This murderer?"

Roland started, and drew half from its sheath a dagger.

The baron trembled and turned more deadly pale than usual as he strode into the room and confronted Caroline.

For a moment he gazed fairly at her and then he cast down his eyes, for his guilty soul quailed beneath her proud glance of innocence and virtue.

"And how dare," he said faintly, "any one accuse my faithful domestics of foul crimes beneath my own roof?"

"Let him ask his own heart," cried Caroline.

"Enough," said the baron. "Begone, Roland."

With a scowl at Caroline, expressive of the most deadly hatred, Roland left the room, and she was alone with the baron.

A silence ensued of some minutes duration, and the Baron Zindorf, it would seem was disinclined to commence the conversation himself which he had come to hold with his injured relative.

Caroline was determined not to address the baron first, and he at length said, in a tone of seeming inquiry, " I trust, my fair niece has no real complaint to make of the hospitality of the Castle of Zindorf?"

"Is it usual, sir," replied Caroline, summoning to her aid as much firmness as she could, "for the lords of Zindorf to turn keys upon their guests?"

"It is usual," said the baron, "for the lords of Zindorf to care much for the honour and safety of their female relatives, however slight may be the chain of connections."

"I am rejoiced to hear you say so," replied Caroline. "Pray, sir, tell me what dangers you thought me subjected to that you must even lock me in my chamber?"

"The honour of a Zindorf," cried the baron, "is in the keeping of the head of the family."

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"Sir," said Caroline, with a shudder, "I claim not to belong to your boasted family, and if your hospitality consists in imprisoning your guests by way of taking care of them, I tell you, Baron Zindorf, you should have chosen for me another chamber."

The baron�s pale face slightly flushed as Caroline spoke, and he replied, "You threw yourself, Caroline Mecklenburgh, upon my hospitality and protection."

"I did, sir," said Caroline, "but it appears your hospitality converts your castle into a prison, and your protection exposes me to the grossest of insults."

"Of what do you complain?" said the baron, trying to assume a lofty tone.

"Of what do I complain," replied Caroline.

"Aye," interrupted the baron. "Do you wish the entire command of my household so that any adventurer, with silken accents and courtly elegance, who professes an admiration for the fair Caroline, may take up his lasting abode here, and convert the old halls of Zindorf into a refuge for destitute gallants? I verily believe, Caroline Mecklenburgh, that the true cause of your great uneasiness here is the departure of the full blown gallant with his muttered prettinesses and unnumbered apeish graces, who made use of what I now consider to have been a dishonourable pretext of accident to gain admission to a house, the gates of which he, perhaps, knew full well were always closed against any such airy flutterers. Ha! my fair niece; have I touched you there?"

"You have not," said Caroline. "The blow you have aimed at my feelings recoils upon your own, Baron Zindorf. This castle is no place for courtly elegance�no place for gallant gentlemen."

"And why not, if I so chose it?"

"Baron Zindorf, I tell thee," cried Caroline, "that far from regretting the departure from this roof, as a guest of yours of the gentleman who lightened a few hours of their weary gloom by his presence, I rejoiced at it."

"And wherefore?"

"Because, I�"

"Because what?" shrieked the baron, his eyes darting a fierce glance at Caroline.

"Because I thought him safer."

"Is this to be borne?" cried the baron furiously. "Shall I be told that my guests, even the passing stranger is unsafe in my house?"

"Yes, baron," replied Caroline. "Your niece, even, in the privacy of her bed chamber, is not safe in your house."

The Baron Zindorf tried steadily to meet the eye of Caroline, as she spoke, but the effort was too much for him, and he looked to the ground as he said, "In what respect has Mademoiselle Mecklenburgh found Zindorf Castle an unsafe place of residence for her?"

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"Look at that picture," said Caroline, "and that secret sliding panel, and tell me where it leads to?"

"Leads to?" said the baron. "It�it leads to a turret."

"But where does the opposite panel, which opens similarly to this, lead to?"

"To�to�" said the baron, "to an old chamber long�long forsaken."

"But now no longer forsaken," said Caroline, "but inhabited, if possible by a blacker villain than�"

"Than who?" cried the baron.

"Thyself," answered Caroline, fearlessly.

The baron seemed perfectly petrified by the boldness of this speech, and with a bitter oath, he laid his hand upon the hilt of his sword, as if he meditated avenging the insult upon the spot by murdering the helpless girl whose strong sense of rectitude and virtue, prompted her to such imprudent freedom of speech to a man of the ferocious temperament of the Baron Zindorf.

A moment�s reflection, however, seemed to suffice to turn him from his fell purpose, and he said, while a scornful laugh curled his lip, "Caroline Mecklenburgh, were the Baron Zindorf the merciless tyrant you would make him appear, that speech had been your last."

"Shew yourself then," said Caroline, "other than what I have said, and let me depart in honour and peace from your castle."

"The Baron Zindorf," he replied, "has too many enemies already abroad. He could not suffer so avowed and open one as thyself to leave his castle without some pledge."

"What pledge do you seek?" asked Caroline.

:If the destitute Caroline Mecklenburgh," continued the baron, "left Zindorf, a countess, as she might do�"

"Baron," answered Caroline, "I will not pretend to misunderstand you. I am, I well perceive, imprisoned here with the expectation that my consent to an union with the murderer of my hapless parents may be wrung from me."

"The Count Durlack is a nobleman of exalted rank," said the baron.

"He is a villain of the blackest dye," cried Caroline.

"His wealth is immense."

"Were he the world�s master, I would scorn him as I do now."

"He loves you to distraction."

"I would he did, for thus distraction. A tithe of that distraction which my poor mother suffered on his account, and through his vile artifices might be visited upon his own head. Baron Zindorf, he is a monster�I loathe that man�and God forgive me, for I cannot forgive him."

"You shall never leave this place, but as the Countess of Durlack," said the baron.

"You may bid me despair," said Caroline, "but I will not. There is