Page:Allan the freebooter, or, The witch of Glenross (2).pdf/23

23 lovely form of Helen, and a man in a pilgrim's habit, whilst a reverend friar was reading the marriage ceremony. Frantic with rage, Roderick rushed up the steps of the altar, and before his presence was perceived, plunged his sword deep into the heart of the pilgrim; who, with a dreadful groan, instantly expired: the act was instantaneous, and Helen, uttering a loud shriek, fell senseless on the marble pavement. At the moment of her fall, a bugle was heard to resound throughout the vaulted fabric, and a party of armed men rushed up the aisle, and to the amazement of father Austin, he beheld habited as the laird of his clan, Allan. The reverend father cast his eyes upon the breathless body before him; in the agonies of death his disguise had fallen off, and he beheld Donaldblain disguised as Allan, who had learned the hour of their appointed marriage, and determined to substitute himself in the room of Allan:—the agitation of all parties prevented a discovery of the imposture, and Helen had just received the ring that made her the wife of Donaldblain, when her father's sword punished his arrogance.

Allan was without the chapel, waiting for the striking of the appointed hour, when he beheld Roderick enter the portal: not doubting but his plan was discovered and the seizure of Helen meditated, instantly blew his bugle which summoned his trusty clansmen to his rescue.

The band enraged at beholding one of their number lying dead upon the ground, and the laird of Glenross with the sanguinary instrument in his hand, attacked him with the greatest fury, and he was wounded before Allan could throw himself between them.

The sound of the bugle had alarmed the inhabitants of the castle, who with Edwin, Malcolm and their retainers, rushed to the scene of action, where they beheld Allan, (wounded by one of Roderick's partisans,) fall before the altar; Allan's clansmen, irritated and enraged, with burning brands set fire to the castle, and ere the morning dawned, a heap of ruins was nearly all that remained of the once princely hall of Glenross.