Ere it faded away entirely, I would need, he said, his assistance: is it possible his words can have been aught but the ravings of insanity ?" "Doubt it not fear it not--but above all," said Ratcliffe, "let us lose no time--are you at liberty, and unwatched ?" "I believe so," said Isabella: "but what would you have me to do ?" "Leave the castle instantly," said Ratcliffe, "and throw yourself at the feet of this extraordinary man, who in circumstances that seem to argue the extremity of the most contemptible poverty, possesses yet an almost absolute influence over your fate .-- Guests and servants are deep in their carouse--the leaders sitting in conclave on their treasonable schemes--my horse stands ready in the stable--I will saddle one for you, and meet you at the little garden-gate--O, let no doubt of my prudence or fidelity prevent your taking the only step in your power to escape the dreadful fate which must attend the wife of Sir Frederick Langley!" "Mr.Ratcliffe," said Miss Vere, "you have always been esteemed a man of honour and probity, and a drowning wretch will always catch at the feeblest twig,--I will trust you--I will follow your advice--I will meet you at the garden-gate." She bolted the outer-door of her apartment as soon as Mr.Ratcliffe left her, and descended to the garden by a separate stair of communication which opened to her dressing-room.

On the way she felt inclined to retract the consent she had so hastily given to a plan so hopeless and extravagant.

But as she passed in her descent a private door which entered into the chapel from the back-stair, she heard the voice of the female-servants as they were employed in the task of cleaning it.
"Married! and to sae bad a man--Ewhow, sirs! onything rather than that." "They are right--they are right," said Miss Vere, "anything rather than that!" She hurried to the garden.

Mr.Ratcliffe was true to his appointment--the horses stood saddled at the garden-gate, and in a few minutes they were advancing rapidly towards the hut of the Solitary.
While the ground was favourable, the speed of their journey was such as to prevent much communication; but when a steep ascent compelled them to slacken their pace, a new cause of apprehension occurred to Miss Vere's mind.
"Mr.Ratcliffe," she said, pulling up her horse's bridle, "let us prosecute no farther a journey, which nothing but the extreme agitation of my mind can vindicate my having undertaken--I am well aware that this man passes among the vulgar as being possessed of supernatural powers, and carrying on an intercourse with beings of another world; but I would have you aware I am neither to be imposed on by such follies, nor, were I to believe in their existence, durst I, with my feelings of religion, apply to this being in my distress." "I should have thought, Miss Vere," replied Ratcliffe, "my character and habits of thinking were so well known to you, that you might have held me exculpated from crediting in such absurdity." "But in what other mode," said Isabella, "can a being, so miserable himself in appearance, possess the power of assisting me ?" "Miss Vere." said Ratcliffe, after a momentary pause, "I am bound by a solemn oath of secrecy--You must, without farther explanation, be satisfied with my pledged assurance, that he does possess the power, if you can inspire him with the will; and that, I doubt not, you will be able to do." "Mr.Ratcliffe," said Miss Vere, "you may yourself be mistaken; you ask an unlimited degree of confidence from me." "Recollect, Miss Vere," he replied, "that when, in your humanity, you asked me to interfere with your father in favour of Haswell and his ruined family--when you requested me to prevail on him to do a thing most abhorrent to his nature--to forgive an injury and remit a penalty--I stipulated that you should ask me no questions concerning the sources of my influence--You found no reason to distrust me then, do not distrust me now." "But the extraordinary mode of life of this man," said Miss Vere; "his seclusion--his figure--the deepness of mis-anthropy which he is said to express in his language--Mr.Ratcliffe, what can I think of him if he really possesses the powers you ascribe to him ?" "This man, young lady, was bred a Catholic, a sect which affords a thousand instances of those who have retired from power and affluence to voluntary privations more strict even than his." "But he avows no religious motive," replied Miss Vere.
"No," replied Ratcliffe; "disgust with the world has operated his retreat from it without assuming the veil of superstition.

Thus far I may tell you--he was born to great wealth, which his parents designed should become greater by his union with a kinswoman, whom for that purpose they bred up in their own house.