'Oh for mercy,' cried the terrified Laura, 'talk not so dreadfully. Be patient--I implore you. Fear not to lose me. Be but virtuous, and no power of man shall wrest me from you. In poverty--in sickness--in disgrace itself I will cleave to you.' 'Oh, I believe it,' said Hargrave, moved even to woman's weakness, 'for thou art an angel. But wilt though cleave to me in--' 'In what', said Laura. 'Ask me nothing--but yield to my earnest entreaty. Save me from the horrors of losing you; and may Heaven forsake me if ever again I give you cause to repent of your pity.' Softened by his imploring looks and gestures, overpowered by his vehemence, harassed beyond her strength, Laura seemed almost expiring. But the upright spirit shared not the weakness of its frail abode. 'Cease to importune me,' said she;--'everlasting were my cause of repentance, should I wilfully do wrong. You may break my heart--it is already broken, but my resolution is immoveable.' Fire flashed from the eyes of Hargrave; as, starting from her feet, he cried, in a voice of frenzy, 'Ungrateful woman, you have never loved me! You love nothing but the fancied virtue to which I am sacrificed. But tremble, obdurate, lest I dash from me this hated life, and my perdition be on your soul!' 'Oh no,' cried Laura, in an agony of terror, 'I will pray for you--pity you,--what shall I say--love you as never man was loved. Would that it were possible to do more!' 'Speak then your final rejection,' said Hargrave, grasping her hand with convulsive energy; 'and abide by the consequence.' 'I must not fear consequences,' said Laura, trembling in every limb. 'They are in the hands of Heaven.' 'Then be this first fond parting kiss our last!' cried Hargrave, and frantickly straining her to his breast, he rushed out of the room. Surprise, confusion, a thousand various feelings kept Laura for a while motionless; till, Hargrave's parting words ringing in her ears, a dreadful apprehension took possession of her mind. Starting from her seat, and following him with her arms as if she could still have detained him, 'Oh Hargrave, what mean you?' she cried. But Hargrave was already beyond the reach of her voice; and, sinking to the ground, the wretched Laura found refuge from her misery in long and deep insensibility. In the attitude in which she had fallen, her lily arms extended on the ground, her death-like cheek resting upon one of them, she was found by a servant who accidentally entered the room, and whose cries soon assembled the family. Montreville alarmed hastened down stairs, and came in just as the maid with the assistance of the landlady was raising Laura, to all appearance dead.