"Sadly," replied Morse. "Well, then, follow me," said the gentleman, "and I'll see what can be
done for you." And they left the shop together. CHAPTER IX

THE MOON IN THE FIRST QUARTER


In spite of his resolution to the contrary, Auriol found it impossible
to resist the fascination of Ebba's society, and became a daily visitor
at her father's house. Mr. Thorneycroft noticed the growing attachment
between them with satisfaction. His great wish was to see his daughter
united to the husband of her choice, and in the hope of smoothing the
way, he let Auriol understand that he should give her a considerable
marriage portion. For the last few days a wonderful alteration had taken place in Auriol's
manner, and he seemed to have shaken off altogether the cloud that had
hitherto sat upon his spirits. Enchanted by the change, Ebba indulged in
the most blissful anticipations of the future. One evening they walked forth together, and almost unconsciously
directed their steps towards the river. Lingering on its banks, they
gazed on the full tide, admired the glorious sunset, and breathed over
and over again those tender nothings so eloquent in lovers' ears. "Oh! how different you are from what you were a week ago," said Ebba
playfully. "Promise me not to indulge in any more of those gloomy
fancies." "I will not indulge in them if I can help it, rest assured, sweet Ebba,"
he replied. "But my spirits are not always under my control. I am
surprised at my own cheerfulness this evening." "I never felt so happy," she replied; "and the whole scene is in unison
with my feelings. How soothing is the calm river flowing at our
feet!--how tender is the warm sky, still flushed with red, though the
sun has set!--And see, yonder hangs the crescent moon. She is in her
first quarter." "The moon in her first quarter!" cried Auriol, in a tone of anguish. "All then is over." "What means this sudden change?" cried Ebba, frightened by his looks. "Oh, Ebba," he replied, "I must leave you. I have allowed myself to
dream of happiness too long. I am an accursed being, doomed only to
bring misery upon those who love me. I warned you on the onset, but you
would not believe me. Let me go, and perhaps it may not yet be too late
to save you." "Oh no, do not leave me!" cried Ebba. "I have no fear while you are with
me." "But you do not know the terrible fate I am linked to," he said. "This
is the night when it will be accomplished." "Your moody fancies do not alarm me as they used to do, dear Auriol,"
she rejoined, "because I know them to be the fruit of a diseased
imagination. Come, let us continue our walk," she added, taking his arm
kindly. "Ebba," he cried, "I implore you to let me go! I have not the power to
tear myself away unless you aid me." "I'm glad to hear it," she rejoined, "for then I shall hold you fast." "You know not what you do!" cried Auriol. "Release me! oh, release me!" "In a few moments the fit will be passed," she rejoined. "Let us walk
towards the abbey." "It is in vain to struggle against fate," ejaculated Auriol
despairingly. And he suffered himself to be led in the direction proposed. Ebba continued to talk, but her discourse fell upon a deaf ear, and at
last she became silent too. In this way they proceeded along Millbank
Street and Abingdon Street, until, turning off on the right, they found
themselves before an old and partly-demolished building. By this time it
had become quite dark, for the moon was hidden behind a rack of clouds,
but a light was seen in the upper storey of the structure, occasioned,
no doubt, by a fire within it, which gave a very picturesque effect to
the broken outline of the walls. Pausing for a moment to contemplate the ruin, Ebba expressed a wish to
enter it. Auriol offered no opposition, and passing through an arched
doorway, and ascending a short, spiral, stone staircase, they presently
arrived at a roofless chamber, which it was evident, from the implements
and rubbish lying about, was about to be razed to the ground. On one
side there was a large arch, partly bricked up, through which opened a
narrow doorway, though at some height from the ground. With this a
plank communicated, while beneath it lay a great heap of stones, amongst
which were some grotesque carved heads. In the centre of the chamber was
a large square opening, like the mouth of a trap-door, from which the
top of a ladder projected, and near it stood a flaming brazier, which
had cast forth the glare seen from below. Over the ruinous walls on the
right hung the crescent moon, now emerged from the cloud, and shedding a
ghostly glimmer on the scene. "What a strange place!" cried Ebba, gazing around with some
apprehension. "It looks like a spot one reads of in romance. I wonder
where that trap leads to?" "Into the vault beneath, no doubt," replied Auriol. "But why did we come
hither?" As he spoke, there was a sound like mocking laughter, but whence arising
it was difficult to say. "Did you hear that sound?" cried Auriol. "It was nothing but the echo of laughter from the street," she replied. "You alarm yourself without reason, Auriol." "No, not without reason," he cried. "I am in the power of a terrible
being, who seeks to destroy you, and I know that he is at hand. Listen
to me, Ebba, and however strange my recital may appear, do not suppose
it the ravings of a madman, but be assured it is the truth." "Beware!" cried a deep voice, issuing apparently from the depths of the
vault. "Some one spoke," cried Ebba. "I begin to share your apprehensions. Let
us quit this place." "Come, then," said Auriol. "Not so fast," cried a deep voice. And they beheld the mysterious owner of the black cloak barring their
passage out. "Ebba, you are mine," cried the stranger. "Auriol has brought you to
me." "It is false!" cried Auriol. "I never will yield her to you." "Remember your compact," rejoined the stranger, with a mocking laugh. "Oh, Auriol!" cried Ebba, "I fear for your soul. You have not made a
compact with this fiend?" "He has," replied the stranger; "and by that compact you are surrendered
to me." And, as he spoke, he advanced towards her, and enveloping her in his
cloak, her cries were instantly stifled. "You shall not go!" cried Auriol, seizing him. "Release her, or I
renounce you wholly." "Fool!" cried the stranger, "since you provoke my wrath, take your
doom." And he stamped on the ground. At this signal an arm was thrust from the
trap-door, and Auriol's hand was seized with an iron grasp. While this took place, the stranger bore his lovely burden swiftly up
the plank leading to the narrow doorway in the wall, and just as he was
passing through it he pointed towards the sky, and shouted with a
mocking smile to Auriol--"Behold! the moon is in her first quarter. My
words are fulfilled!" And he disappeared. Auriol tried to disengage himself from the grasp imposed upon him in
vain. Uttering ejaculations of rage and despair, he was dragged forcibly
backwards into the vault.