befit a public execution. I drew myself up against the wall opposite the entrance; I collected my forces, I rallied my courage, I would not fall a tame prey. Slowly the door receded on its hinges—I was ready to spring forward to seize and grapple with the intruder, till the sight of who it was changed at once the temper of my mind. It was Juliet herself; pale and trembling she stood, a lamp in her hand, on the threshold of the dungeon, looking at me with wistful countenance. But in a moment she reassumed her self-possession; and her languid eyes recovered their brilliancy. She said, “I am come to save you, Verney.”
“And yourself also,” I cried: “dearest friend, can we indeed be saved?”
“Not a word,” she replied, “follow me!”
I obeyed instantly. We threaded with light steps many corridors, ascended several flights of stairs, and passed through long galleries; at the end of one she unlocked a low portal; a rush of wind extinguished our lamp; but, in lieu of it, we had the blessed moonbeams and the open face of heaven. Then first Juliet spoke:—“You are safe,” she said, “God bless you!—farewell!”