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sidelong glance at Roland, who was standing at some distance in the recess of a window, apparently intently occupied in gazing out at the subsiding storm.

"Roland," said the baron, "leave us."

Roland walked with a cloudy brow from the room.

"Your fellow," said the count, "appears to think himself entitled to our full confidence. It�s a hard case that a nobleman cannot avail himself upon occasion of the services of a cut-throat, without the fellow fancying that he becomes immediately an associate fit for his employers."

"It is one of the taxes," said the baron, "which we must all pay for the use of subordinate tools in enterprises of pith and moment."

"Well, let that pass," said the count. "You have guessed rightly, baron; there is a motive more powerful to Count Durlack than any which could be aroused by the charms of Caroline Mecklenburgh, which makes the possession of her hand in lawful wedlock most desirable to him."

"I did surmise as much," answered the baron.

"This is the fact, then," continued the count; "the father of Caroline Mecklenburgh lost large sums to me at play."

"So I have heard," said the baron, drily.

"He then gambled with his estates."

"Which you likewise won?"

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"Which I likewise won," said the count, in a tone of impatience; "but at the death of Mecklenburgh I found that I had achieved but a barren triumph, for it appears that he had no power over the real estates, and that they became at his death the undoubted property of his daughter."

"Indeed!" cried the baron; "then Caroline Mecklenburgh is richly endowed?"

"She is," replied the count. "I hold possession of the estates, but live in hourly dread that some meddling advocate will interrupt my possession, and awaken Caroline to a consciousness of her own wealth."

"A most unpleasant circumstance," said the baron.

"You know," continued the count, talking rapidly and vehemently, "that my own wealth was squandered long since; and upon these estates of Mecklenburgh, which have turned out rich beyond my utmost expectations, I support my station and dignity as a gallant nobleman."

"Of that I am aware," replied the baron.

"Judge, then," said the count, "in what a state of anxiety I must live when I know not a day when these estates may not be wrested from my grasp, and I�I�the Count Durlack�become a titled beggar."

"To avoid so disagreeable a termination to the career of Count Durlack," said the baron, "he would wed Caroline Mecklenburgh?"

"I not only would do so," cried the count, passionately, " but I must and will."

"It is, I believe, in my power to advance your purpose materially, count," said the baron.

"Doubtless it is," cried the count. "I rely upon our long connexion and mutual services for that support which I have a particular right to expect from you, of all men."

"You know," said the baron, "that my circumstances are much involved."

"I understand you," replied the count; "if I obtain the hand of Caroline Mecklenburgh, that involvement shall cease."

"Then we are agreed," said the baron. "She departs not from this castle but as your countess."

"That is what I desire," replied the count. "Let her claims to the estates be made as my wife, or let her never appear as a claimant at all."

"A funeral or a wedding we must have in the castle," exclaimed the baron.

"We must," continued the count. "Caroline Mecklenburgh is dangerous. She must either become my wife, or her claims to the property that I hold must be silenced for ever in the tomb."

"We understand each other," said the baron, rising.

The storm had now nearly subsided. Occasionally only could be heard the low muttering of the now distant thunder. The wind still swept in gusts around the towers and time-worn ramparts of the old castle.

Suddenly the baron started, and looked anxiously at the count.

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The sound of a trumpet at the castle gates now rung through the old halls. Again and again, with a loud blast it came to the ears of the baron and the count, and a feeling of alarm and apprehension came across both their guilty souls.

CHAPTER XXIII.

CAROLINE MECKLENBURGH, though far from being timid, was still unused to the furious storms which occasionally occurred in the mountainous region in which the Castle of Zindorf was situated; and the vivid lightning and loud thunder filled her with sensations of awe and alarm for the safety of the building in which she was.

As the storm increased in violence, and the fully-awakened echoes from surrounding mountains� sides multiplied its horrors, Caroline determined upon repairing to the turret chamber, and trusting to the protection of Claudio.

"If," she said, "in this awful strife of the elements, this hateful mansion, which even now seems to totter to its base, be doomed to destruction, let me meet my fate with those who sympathize with my misfortunes, and deserve my esteem."

She passed through the panel as she spoke, and stood upon the stairs which led to the turret.

Now a more awful clap of thunder than any she had hitherto heard reverberated through the castle, and seemed sufficient to rend the old walls asunder, and bury the inhabitants amid ruin and desolation.

With the speed of alarm and terror, Caroline rushed up the stairs leading to the turret, and knocked loudly at the door.

It was opened by Claudio, who, observing her state of alarm, led her immediately to a seat.

"Oh, Claudio, Claudio!" she exclaimed, "why did I ask you to remain in this place? Listen to the raging storm. This old castle cannot, surely, withstand this awful strife of the elements. It must fall, and you will be engulphed in its ruins."

"Nay, dearest Caroline," replied Claudio, in a cheerful voice, "your generous fears for the safety of one who holds his life to be valuable only as it may be in your service, leads you to magnify the danger from the tempest without."

"Do you not hear it?" Caroline replied; "even now this turret trembles in the blast."

"Storms," said Claudio, "in these regions ever assume aspects of accumulated horrors. Not a hundredth part of the turmoil that you hear without is real. The sound of one thunder-clap is carried from mountain to mountain in endless reverberations."

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"It is for your safety," said Caroline, "that I am anxious. Upon your life, Claudio, I feel convinced, rests the solution of the fearful mysteries of this castle, and the restoration of right to the oppressed and the innocent."

"My life," answered Claudio, "has indeed acquired a rich value since one thought for its safety is uttered by Caroline Mecklenburgh. Here, amidst the war of the elements, I once again dedicate to you my heart�my sword�my whole existence."

Caroline was silent, but each word of Claudio sunk into her soul.

"Fly�fly with me," he continued, "from this mansion of crime and horror. Leave these hateful walls to crumble to dust, unhallowed to the presence of aught so fair�so innocent as thou art."

"Oh, Claudio," she replied, "you forget that I am a prisoner here."

"I forget everything but that I love you," answered Claudio; "and that true love can achieve undreamt-of wonders."

"Alas!" cried Caroline, "where are the means of flight?"

"In our own hearts," answered the enthusiastic Claudio. "We have but to determine to be free, and a bold heart and a strong arm shall achieve the rest."

"Oh, Claudio," said Caroline, "you would extract hope even from despair."

"And why not, dearest?" he replied. "Have we not heard and read of exploits more difficult�a thousand times more arduous than escape from Zindorf Castle, being accomplished by the aid of that feeling into which all others merge, and are for ever lost?�love�pure, heartfelt love."

"I tremble for the consequences of a failure," said Caroline.

"The determination to succeed," cried Claudio, "is the true parent of success."

"The castle is full of the baron�s retainers."

"The more unfitting is it, dear Caroline, as an abode for thee."

"Ah, Claudio, could I but borrow a portion of your romantic and chivalrous spirit!"

"Nay, dearest, it is all thine own. I have lit the flame of youthful hope at the pure altar of thy wondrous beauty."

Caroline smiled, and shook her head.

"Nay," he cried, "doubt me not. Like a knight of old romance, I will bear you hence from tyranny and oppression."

"It is old romance you speak of," said Caroline, softly.

"In after happy days," continued Claudio, "we will speak of Zindorf Castle but to give the shadow to our lives which shall make the refulgent glory of each succeeding day more beautiful."

"Claudio," said Caroline, "I would trust to thee, but it would be ungenerous to take advantage of thy gallant spirit to involve thee in danger�perhaps death."

"Oh, speak not thus," replied Claudio. "The flame of love once lighted must be fed by the pure spirit that first called it into existence, or it will

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consume the altar on which it burns�that altar, dearest Caroline, is my heart."

"I owe you much already," said Caroline.

"You owe me nothing," exclaimed Claudio, "or you owe me everything."

"What mean you?"

"That poor Claudio has a place in your heart, or he has not."

Caroline sighed.

"If he has been so blessed," continued Claudio, "as to have awakened a tender feeling within thy breast, then do you owe him nothing, for he is more than paid, even for a life of toil and misery, and a death of pain and suffering."

"Oh, talk not thus," said Caroline.

"But if not," continued Claudio, in a saddened voice�"if such heavenly bliss be denied him, he lives without happiness and dies without regret."

"Oh, Claudio, you wring my heart."

�Tell me then�oh, tell me that your poor Claudio is not utterly hateful to you."

"Hateful! oh, no."

"You will let me hope?"

"If Caroline Mecklenburgh," she said, "were free, and not the poor dependant�"

Her voice was choked with sobs.

"Speak not thus," he cried; "free you shall be�poor and dependant you never can be, for you possess the true riches of the soul�virtue and innocence."

"Claudio," she said, "you seek a worthless prize."

"No, as Heaven is my judge, a priceless jewel!"

"It would ill become me," said Caroline, "to deny that�that�"

"That what? Dearest, say that perhaps in happier days you may teach your heart to smile upon poor Claudio, who loved you when the sunshine of prosperity shone not on you."

"May those days, Claudio, come, I pray Heaven!"

"You will be mine? Oh, rapturous thought!�you will be mine."

"Thine, Claudio!" cried Caroline.

"Then," he cried, is the world a fair garden of beauty. T he sky is ever bright, and sunshine beams eternal. The magic of love is upon my senses, and all is glorious and beautiful. My life commences but now."

"The storm," said Caroline, "is passing over us, Claudio."

"Let us consider that as a harbinger of our destiny," he replied.

As he spoke, a ray of sweet sunshine broke through the dispersing clouds, and, stealing through one of the narrow slits in the solid masonry which admitted light to the turret, fell in a long streak of yellow radiance upon the floor.

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"See, Caroline, see," cried Claudio; "this is a bright omen of our future fortune. Even heaven smiles upon us."

"Gladly," said Caroline, "oh, most gladly do I accept it as such."

"This one ray of sunshine," said Claudio, "may be the commencement of our prosperity and joy. As the clouds are now dispersing from before the clear face of Heaven, so may the vapours and clouds which now obscure our fates and the fates of those who are dear to us, be dissipated by the sweet sunshine of joy, never more even to dim by their shadows the fair horizon of our happiness."

"Oh, Claudio," said Caroline, "by your enthusiasm you lend a charm even to sorrow."

"It is my love for thee," he replied, "that plants sweet verdure in my heart."

"But how is it possible," asked Caroline, "for us to fly from this place?"

"I am not without a sanguine hope," replied Claudio, "that Maurice and I, by a second visit to the vaults, may discover some secret outlet into the forest that lies at the foot of the mountain."

"Should you make such a discovery," said Caroline, "there would be no difficulty in instant flight. I have still some friends at Dresden, who, for the sake of my poor mother, would afford us every protection."

"This very day," said Claudio, "will I again pursue my researches in the vaults of Zindorf, and kind Heaven may direct me to the wished-for outlet, for that such an one exists I cannot for a moment doubt."

"And," said Caroline, "make one more effort to discover the place of confinement of the aged man I mentioned to you. He may still linger, a living prisoner in some one of the dungeons which conceal the crimes of the Baron Zindorf."

"No exertion shall be wanting," said Claudio, "to discover the place in which that victim of oppression is hidden."

"From the manuscript I have mentioned to you," continued Caroline, "I gather that he is the rightful owner of the castle, and the real Baron Zindorf."

"He has been most cruelly wronged," said Claudio; "and if he lives, by the assistance of Heaven, he may yet again tread as master his ancient halls, and Zindorf Castle may cease to be the abode of tyranny and crime."

"Hark!" cried Maurice, suddenly, "what sound was that?"

"It was like a trumpet," said Claudio, after a pause.

"There again," said Maurice.

"Some one," said Caroline, "is summoning the warder to be admitted into the castle."

"It is a trumpet call of that character," cried Claudio.

Again the sound of the trumpet came full and clear to their ears. It was the sound which had startled the baron in his conversation with Count Durlack, which was taking place at the same time that Caroline Mecklen-

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burgh was listening with wrapt attention to the fervent declarations of attachment, and the impassioned and romantic language of Claudio in the turret chamber.

The little party listened with breathless attention for any repetition of the sound, but all was now still.

"A visitor here," said Caroline, "is a most rare occurrence, I understand."

"Doubtless it is," answered Claudio; "there is no great temptation to visit Zindorf, and if I may judge from my own case, the hospitality of the baron has grown rather rusty."

"Whoever it be," said Caroline, "I think they will not be admitted."

"Hark!" cried Maurice, as a still louder blast of the trumpet broke the stillness around, and echoed through the deserted court-yards of the gloomy pile of building.

"Admittance seems to be refused," said Claudio.

"I hear a noise in my chamber below," cried Caroline, her cheek losing its colour.

"Let me descend," said Claudio.

"No, no," cried Caroline; "that were indeed to court destruction. Oh, Claudio, as you are brave and fearless, be prudent."

The voice of the baron now sounded from the chamber of Caroline, and struck a chill to her heart.

"Caroline!" he called; "Caroline Mecklenburgh!"

She hastily descended the stairs.

"Caroline!" again shouted the baron, in a tone of the greatest impatience.

In a moment she appeared at the panel.

"I am here," she said, with difficulty suppressing her emotion.

"Come with me," cried the baron. "Instantly!�Delay not a moment!"

"Whither�oh, whither?" cried Caroline.

"Whining fool!" cried the baron, stamping his foot with rage; "your great outcry hitherto has been to leave this chamber, and now, when I bid you do so, you cling to it with pertinacity, as if you loved it."

The baron seized her by the arm as he spoke, and dragged her towards door.

She was about to utter a cry for help�a cry which would have brought Claudio from the turret to her aid, when she saw through the half-opened ante-room door the glittering of arms.

"I will abide my fate," she thought. "He would be overpowered by numbers. To summon him would be to call him to inevitable destruction. No, I will not. Farewell, dear Claudio�live, live!"

The baron dragged her through the ante-room, and when there she saw Roland and Francisco, armed to the teeth, and apparently waiting to convey her to some other place of confinement.

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"Where, oh, where would you lead me?" she cried, struggling to free herself from the firm grasp of the baron.

"Furies!" cried the baron, " there it is again," as the trumpet sounded an angry note of defiance at the outer gate.

"We waste precious time," said Count Durlack, advancing.

"Listen, Caroline," cried the baron, speaking rapidly, and evidently under great excitement. "You will proceed to the warder�s tower, above the great gate, with this armed party, instantly."

"And wherefore should I do so?" asked Caroline.

"You will perceive," continued the baron, not heeding her interruption, "an armed party of horsemen on the further side of the moat. You have heard their summons?"

"I have."

"Speak to them, then. Tell them who you are, and they will declare their errand."

"And what then, sir?"

"If it concern the count or myself, you will deny that we are either of us in the castle. Say that we are at the court of Vienna."

"What?" cried Caroline, with indignation. "I, a prisoner, with falsehoods, which my lips would disdain to utter, shield my goalers from, perhaps, the great consequences of their crimes? No, baron."

"By Heaven, you shall!" cried the baron furiously.

"Then, by Heaven, I will not," cried Caroline. "The proposal is an insult."

"Your life," roared the baron, in a voice of thunder, "shall answer for your temerity."

"My life is in your power," answered Caroline, "but my veracity is in my own."

"To the warder�s tower, instantly," said the baron.

"You, and your associates may drag me there," answered Caroline, "but my first act will be to call to the strangers, whoever they may be, to protect me from your insults, and rescue me from degradation and imprisonment."

At this moment the trumpet sounded long and loud.

"To the turret of the warder! To the postern," cried the baron, seizing Caroline by the arm again, and dragging her onward. "Forward, forward, to the warder�s tower!"

Caroline was rudely dragged onwards for a considerable distance along the various intricate passages and long galleries, till they came to a precipitous flight of stone steps.

"You never shall bend me to your purpose," she said to the baron, at the same time, trying to wrest her hands from his grasp.

"Forward!" he shouted, clutching her arm like a vice. "To warder�s tower!"

Her weak resistance was in vain, and she was forced up the precipi-