CHAPTER XVI.
-- 'Twas time and griefs That framed him thus: Time, with his fairer hand, Offering the fortunes of his former days, The former man may make him .-- Bring us to him, And chance it as it may .-- OLD PLAY.
The sounds of Ratcliffe's voice had died on Isabella's ear; but as she frequently looked back, it was some encouragement to her to discern his form now darkening in the gloom.

Ere, however, she went much farther, she lost the object in the increasing shade.

The last glimmer of the twilight placed her before the hut of the Solitary.

She twice extended her hand to the door, and twice she withdrew it; and when she did at length make the effort, the knock did not equal in violence the throb of her own bosom.

Her next effort was louder; her third was reiterated, for the fear of not obtaining the protection from which Ratcliffe promised so much, began to overpower the terrors of his presence from whom she was to request it.