Guy Rivers: A Tale of GeorgiaSimms, William Gilmore
History
Guy Rivers: A Tale of Georgia
Simms, William Gilmore
Georgia -- History -- 1775-1865 -- Fiction; Gold mines and mining -- Fiction
"Nay, ask me not, sir, but fly. There is but little time for
explanation, believe me. I know and do not imagine the danger. I can not
tell you all, nor can you with safety bestow the time to hear. Your
murderers are awake--they are in this very house, and nothing but
instant flight can save you from their hands."
"But from whom, Miss Munro, am I to fear all this? What has given you
this alarm, which, until you can give me some clue to this mystery, I
must regard as unadvised and without foundation. I feel the kindness and
interest of your solicitude--deeply feel, and greatly respect it; but,
unless you can give me some reasonable ground for your fears, I must be
stubborn in resisting a connection which would have me fly like a
midnight felon, without having seen the face of my foe."
"Oh, heed not these false scruples. There is no shame in such a flight,
and believe me, sir, I speak not unadvisedly. Nothing, but the most
urgent and immediate danger would have prompted me, at this hour, to
come here. If you would survive this night, take advantage of the
warning and fly. This moment you must determine--I know not, indeed, if
it be not too late even now for your extrication. The murderers, by this
time, may be on the way to your chamber, and they will not heed your
prayers, and they will scorn any defence which you might offer."
"But who are they of whom you speak, Miss Munro? If I must fly, let me
at least know from what and whom. What are my offences, and whom have I
offended?"
"That is soon told, though I fear, sir, we waste the time in doing so.
You have offended Rivers, and you know but little of him if you think it
possible for him to forget or forgive where once injured, however
slightly. The miners generally have been taught to regard you as one
whose destruction alone can insure their safety from punishment for
their late aggressions. My uncle too, I grieve to say it, is too much
under the influence of Rivers, and does indeed just what his suggestions
prescribe. They have plotted your death, and will not scruple at its
performance. They are even now below meditating its execution. By the
merest good fortune I overheard their design, from which I feel
persuaded nothing now can make them recede. Rely not on their fear of
human punishment. They care perhaps just as little for the laws of man
as of God, both of which they violate hourly with impunity, and from
both of which they have always hitherto contrived to secure themselves.
Let me entreat, therefore, that you will take no heed of that manful
courage which would be honorable and proper with a fair enemy. Do not
think that I am a victim to unmeasured and womanly fears. I have seen
too much of the doings of these men, not to feel that no fancies of mine
can do them injustice. They would murder you in your bed, and walk from
the scene of their crime with confidence into the very courts of
justice."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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