LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume VIII, Issue 1084, 19 December 1877, Page 3

LITERATURE.

"KRIN." [" Temple Bar.] (Continued.) ' Oh !' moans Krin in a voice of anguish, ' are we never to be released. How shall I ever face mamma, and Rhoda ? I wish I had never seen this hateful tower—why did you induce me to eater it ?' The accusation conveyed in this speech is so unjust that for the moment Saxon is silent. 1 How can you say I induced you, Corinna?' he says gravely, when he has recovered himself. 'Did you not tell me you were most anxious to see the inside ? When you said that, what could I do but show it to you ?' ' Nevertheless it is all your fault; but for you I would not be here now.' ' But for Simon, you mean, and your own desire.' ' It was you opened the door,' she insists pettishly, looking all the time like a beautiful spoiled child as she sits on the old stone bench, her head turned petulantly from his gaze, her eyes watching through one of the openings in the wall for any chance passerby 'Of course when you did so, I went in who could have done otherwise ? But there, where is the use of losing your temper about it ? lamin a dreadful scrape, and I will never be forgiven, that is all.' ' You need not make matters worse than they are,' says Kowden gloomily; 'you cannot be more upset about the whole affair than I am. But '—going over to one of the windows and staring down—' even if I jumped out it would do you no good. The fall would certainly stun me, if it did no worse ; and to have me lying insensible out there would not help matters in the least.' • Bo you suppose I want you to kill yourself ?' says Krin half frightened; and again silence falls between them. Half-past seven. Half-past eight. The long summer's evening is drawing to a close at last; it is growing positively dark. For the last hour not one word has been spoken by either of them. This slow torture has proved too much for Saxon. For the past ten minutes he has been revolving a wild idea in his brain, and with it before him is fast losing sight of all common sense. Not far from one of the open spaces in the wall that represent windows there stretches sideways the branch of a tree, sufficiently stout indeed, should he be happy enough to reach it in a spring, to support his weight, but the chances are that he will not reach it. It is a terrible risk to run—a risk ia which failure means a severe accident, if not instantaneous death; but to Saxon's overwrought feelings it appears preferable that he should suffer from some broken bones, than that Krin should have to endure all the bitter reproaches that will be surely heaped upon her, if they be discovered ia their unsought imprisonment. Perhaps t io, even if he did come to the ground, he might not altogether lose consciousness ; and if he could only manage to crawl to the door, and turn that unlucky key, all might yet be well. It has grown so late by this time that he has lost all hope of seeing any one come to the rescue ; it matters be allowed to continue as they are now, it is more than probable they will have to spend the night in this detested tower, and that is not to be thought of for a moment: so ' Saxon,' cries Krin suddenly, rising to her feet, ' why don't you speak ? I shall go mad if this goes on much longer. Have you no plan, no idea ? Oh, do something to get us out of this place !' She lays her hand upon his arm, and raiso3 her face imploringly to his. As he returns her gaze he sees two large miserable tears rise in her eyes, and roll slowly down her pale cheeks. They pierce through Saxon's very heart. ' Krin, K rin, don't do that !' he exclaims hurriedly. ' I can, I will do something, but do not unnerve me. Forgive me before I go, child, for making you so unhappy.' 4 Go,' whispers Krin, shrinking from him, ' go where ?' 'Look, it is quite simple,' he says, leading her to the window, and pointing to the sturdy branch, 'I shall spring from here, and catch that (I wonder I did not think of it before). I shall then descend, open the door for you, and set the bird free.' He speaks lightly and presses her hand to reassure her. But she is not to be so deceived.

' O no, no !' she gasps, trying with both hands to draw him from the window. ' It is not to be thought of. No one could do

it. It would be certain death. You shall not go.' 'Nonsense, Krin, do not be foolish. I tell you I can and will do it. Come, look up, and wish me luck ; in five minutes I shall have you laughing at your fears. Now go away from the window, and wait over there for me '

For a moment he hesitates, then, taking her face in both his hands, kisses her gently. A little later he is standing on the stone parapet that projects from the wall. There is a faint pause, followed by a slight rushing noise through the still air, a crackling of wood, aud Krin, shuddering and half fainting, sinks back upon the friendly bench. Is it five hours, or five minutes, or a lifetime '! Saxon's voice rings suddenly in her ears, as though sounding through deep water, and, looking up, she finds him bending anxiously over her. ' You silly child,' he says cheerfully, 'I do believe you fainted. Are you better now ? Come, the air will do you good, and we can make our escape at last.' He laughs, and, passing his arm round her, raises her to her feet. Mechanically she follows him to the top of the stairs, but there, even through the falling darkness, a deep red stain upon his hand attracts her notice.

' What is that ?' she asks nervously, stopping short, 'is it blood? Oh, Saxon, you are hurt!' and this, added to all the previous excitement, overcoming her, she hides her face in her hands, and bursts into a passion of tears.

'Corinna,' says Saxon quietly, although his pulses are throbbing somewhat wildly, ' I declare lam ashamed of you. I thought you quite a plucky little girl, and see, a mere scratch upsets you Why, your own toy penknife could give as severe a cut. I assure you I don't even feel it. Come, remember how late it is.' He feels a great desire to take her in his arms, and kiss away the tears she h shedding for him, but some inward thought and something in the time and place prevent him. Although he did press his lips to hers before attempting the dangerous feat that, but for hia being fortunate enough to reach the tree, might have resulted in his death, still, now that danger is at an end, h* shrinks from doing 'anything that might bring a blush, however innocent, to her cheek. (To he continued.')