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 be happy: to-morrow we shall not be alone, though you may, perhaps, be happier. I have invited the priest, dear William, and when the trial is over”A loud shriek from Catherine interrupted the forester. Kuno’s picture had again fallen from its place, and had struck her severely on the forehead. Bertram grew angry. “I cannot conceive,” said he, “why this picture is not hung properly; this is the second time it has given us a fright: are you hurt, Catherine?” “It is of no consequence,” replied the maiden, gently wiping away the blood from her bright curls; “I am less hurt than frightened.”

William grew sick when he beheld her pale face, and forehead bathed in blood. So he had seen her in his distempered dreams on that dreadful night: and this reality conjured up all those fearful fantasies anew. His determination of proceeding in his plan was shaken; but the wine, which he drank in greater quantities than usual, filled him with a wild courage, and ennerved him to undertake its execution. The clock struck nine. Love and valour must combat with danger, thought William. But he sought in vain for a decent pretence to leave his Catherine. How could he quit her on the bridal eve? Time flew with the rapidity of an arrow, and he suffered