“Nigel, Nigel,” she cried. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. ‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie. But it does not sound as if the girl that wears the name resembles either of her parents. His sword-arm fell useless at his side and she knew herself safe.
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