The Haunted Chapel

"The chapel was a ruin old,
That stood so low, in lonely glen.
The gothic windows high and dark
Were hung with ivy, brier, and yew."

The Haunted Chapel to which Mr. and Mrs. Berners were going was in a
dark and lonely gorge on the other side of the mountain across Black
River, but near its rise in the Black Torrent. To reach the chapel, they
would have to ride three miles up the shore and ford the river, and then
pass over the opposite mountain. The road was as difficult and dangerous
as it was lonely and unfrequented.

Lyon and Sybil rode on together in silence, bending their heads before
the driving mist, and keeping close to the banks of the river until they
should reach the fording place.

At length Sybil's anguish broke forth in words.

"Oh! Lyon, is this nightmare? Or is it true that I am so suddenly cast
down from my secure place, as to become in one hour a fugitive from my
home, a fugitive from justice! Oh! Lyon, speak to me. Break the spell
that binds my senses. Wake me up. Wake me up," she wildly exclaimed.

"Dear Sybil, be patient, calm, and firm. This is a terrible calamity.
But to meet calamity bravely, is the test of a true high soul. You are
compelled to seek safety in flight, to conceal yourself for the present,
to avoid a train of unmerited humiliations that even the consciousness
of innocence would not enable you to bear. But you have only to be
patient, and a few days or weeks must bring the truth to light, and
restore you to your home."