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 William’s cheek grew pale, and he earnestly tried to excuse himself from accompanying them. But, when this was refused by the chief forester, he entreated at least to be allowed to fire his trial shot before their departure. Old Bertram shook his head, doubtingly: “William,” said he, “should my suspicion of yesterday be just”“Father!” replied the youth; and no longer daring to hesitate, he departed with them to the forest.

Bertram had in vain endeavoured to suppress his forebodings and assume a cheerful countenance. Catherine too was dejected, and it was not until the arrival of the priest that she recollected her nuptial garland: her mother had locked it up, and, in her haste to open the chest, broke the lock, and was obliged to send into the village for another wreath, as too much time had been wasted in endeavouring to recover the first. “Let them give you the handsomest,” said Anne to the little messenger, “the very handsomest they have.” The boy accordingly chose the most glittering, and the seller, who misunderstood him, gave him a death garland, composed of myrtle and rosemary, intermingled with silver. The mother and daughter beheld and recognised the mysterious intimation of fate; they embraced each other in silence, and endeavoured to smile