Acquiring courage at the sound of his own voice, Osborne grew fluent. Elizabeth drew back--she looked anxiously at Falkner, and saw a cloud of displeasure and scorn gather over his countenance--she put her hand on his, as if to check the outbreak of his indignation; yet she herself, as Osborne went on, turned her eyes flashing with disdain upon him. The miserable fellow cowed before the glances of both; he shifted from one foot to the other; he dared not look up; but he knew that their eyes were on him, and he felt the beams transfix him, and wither up his soul. There are weak men who yield to persuasion; there are weaker who are vanquished by reproaches and contempt; of such was Osborne. His fluency faded into broken accents; his voice died away--as a last effort, he moved towards the door. "Enough, sir," said Falkner, in a calm, contemptuous voice; "and now begone--hasten away--do not stop till you have gained the shore, the ship, the waves of the Atlantic; be assured I shall not send for you a second time; I have no desire to owe my life to you." "If I could save your life, Mr. Falkner," he began; "but--" "We will not argue that point," interrupted Falkner; "it is enough that it is generally asserted that your testimony is necessary for my preservation. Were my crime as great as it is said to be, it would find its punishment in that humiliation. Go, sir; you are safe! I would not advise you to loiter here, return to America; walls have ears in abodes like these; you may be forced to save a fellow-creature against your will; hasten then away; go, eat, drink, and be merry--whatever betides me, not even my ghost shall haunt you. Meanwhile, I would beg you no longer to insult me by your presence--begone at once." "You are angry, sir," said Osborne, timidly. "I hope not," replied Falkner, who had indeed felt his indignation rise, and checked himself; "I should be very sorry to feel anger against a coward; I pity you--you will repent this when too late." "Oh, do not say so," cried Elizabeth; "do not say he will repent when too late--but now, in time, I am sure that he repents; do you not, Mr. Osborne? You are told that your fears are vain; you know Mr. Falkner is far too noble to draw you into danger to save himself--you know even that he does not fear death, but ignominy, eternal, horrible disgrace; and the end, the frightful end prepared, even he must recoil from that--and you--no, you cannot in cold blood, and with calm forethought, make him over to it--you cannot, I see that you cannot--" "Forbear, Elizabeth!" interrupted Falkner, in a tone of displeasure; "I will not have my life, nor even my honour, begged by you; let the worst come, the condemnation, the hangman--I can bear all, except the degradation of supplicating such a man as that."