Matilda Montgomerie; Or, The Prophecy FulfilledRichardson, Major (John)
History
Matilda Montgomerie; Or, The Prophecy Fulfilled
Richardson, Major (John)
United States -- History -- War of 1812 -- Fiction
throw my arms, in the earnestness of entreaty, upon his neck, and
implore his secresy; promising to reward him generously for his silence.
I moreover urged him, if he still doubted, to make inquiry of Major
Montgomerie, and ascertain from him whether I was not indeed the niece
of his adoption, and not of his blood. Finally, I humbled myself in the
dust, and, like a fawning reptile, clasped his knees in my arms,
entreating mercy and justice. But no," and the voice of Matilda grew
deeper, and her form became more erect; "neither mercy nor justice dwelt
in that hard heart, and he spurned me rudely from him. Nothing short of
the production of him he persisted in calling my vile paramour, would
satisfy him; but my ignoble parent had received from me the reward of
his secresy, and he had departed once more to the Canadas. And thus,"
pursued Matilda, her voice trembling with emotion, "was I made the
victim of the most diabolical suspicion that ever haunted the breast of
man."
Gerald was greatly affected. His passion for Matilda seemed to increase
in proportion with his sympathy for her wrongs, and he clasped her
energetically to his heart.
"Finding him resolute in attaching to me the debasing imputation,"
pursued the American, "it suddenly flashed upon my mind that this was
but a pretext to free himself from his engagement, and that he was glad
to accomplish his object through the first means that offered. Oh,
Gerald, I cannot paint the extraordinary change that came over my
feelings at this thought! much less give you an idea of the rapidity
with which that change was effected. One moment before, and, although
degraded and unjustly accused, I had loved him with all the ardor of
which a woman's heart is capable: _now_ I hated, loathed, detested him;
and had he sunk at my feet, I would have spurned him from me with
indignation and scorn. I could not but be conscious that the very act of
having yielded myself up to him, had armed my lover with the power to
accuse me of infidelity, and the more I lingered on the want of
generosity such a suspicion implied, the more rooted became my dislike,
the more profound my contempt for him, who could thus repay so great a
proof of confidingness and affection.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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