Lord William’s steed followed in the hound’s footsteps to a hair.  The deer was almost within her last spring, when the hound, with a loud yell, doubled her, scarcely a yard’s breadth from the long bare neb of that fearful peak, and she turned with inconceivable speed so near the verge that Lord William, in wheeling round, heard a fragment of rock, loosened by the stroke from his horse’s hoof, roll down the precipice with a frightful crash.  The sudden whirl had nearly brought him to the ground, but he recovered his position with great adroitness.  A loud shriek announced the capture.  The cruel hound held the deer by the throat, and they were struggling together on the green earth.  With threats and curses he lashed away the ferocious beast, who growled fiercely at being driven from her prey.  With looks of sullenness and menace, she scampered off, leaving Lord William to secure the victim.  He drew a silken noose from his saddle-bow, and threw it over the panting deer, who followed quietly on to his dwelling at Hapton Tower.

At midnight there was heard a wild and unearthly shriek from the high turret, so pitiful and shrill that the inmates awoke in great alarm.  The loud roar of the wind came on like a thunder-clap.  The tempest flapped its wings, and its giant arms rocked the turret like a cradle.  At this hour Lord William, with a wild and haggard eye, left his chamber.  The last stroke of the midnight bell trembled on his ear as he entered the western tower.  A maiden sat there, a silken noose was about her head, and she sobbed loud and heavily.  She wrung her white hands at his approach.

“Thy spells have been o’ermastered.  Henceforth I renounce these unholy rites; I would not pass nights of horror and days of dread any longer.  Maiden, thou art in my power.  Unless thou wilt be mine,—­renouncing thine impious vows,—­for ever shunning thy detested arts,—­breaking that accursed chain the enemy has wound about thee,—­I will deliver thee up to thy tormentors, and those that seek thy destruction.  This done, and thou art free.”

The maiden threw her snake-like glance upon him.

“Alas!” she cried, “I am not free.  This magic noose! remove it, and my promise shall be without constraint.”

“Nay, thou arch-deceiver,—­deceiver of thine own self, and plotter of thine own ruin,—­I would save thee from thy doom.  Promise, renounce, and for ever forswear thy vows.  The priest will absolve thee; it must be done ere I unbind that chain.”

“I promise,” said the maiden, after a deep and unbroken silence.  “I have not been happy since I knew their power.  I may yet worship this fair earth and yon boundless sky.  This heart would be void without an object and a possession!”