Arranged marriage -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Love stories; Psychological fiction; Scotland -- Fiction; Women murderers -- Fiction
“Sir William Ashton,” said Ravenswood, “I pray you, and all who hear
me, that you will not mistake my purpose. If this young lady, of her
own free will, desires the restoration of this contract, as her letter
would seem to imply, there is not a withered leaf which this autumn
wind strews on the heath that is more valueless in my eyes. But I must
and will hear the truth from her own mouth; without this satisfaction I
will not leave this spot. Murder me by numbers you possibly may; but I
am an armed man—I am a desperate man, and I will not die without ample
vengeance. This is my resolution, take it as you may. I WILL hear her
determination from her own mouth; from her own mouth, alone, and
without witnesses, will I hear it. Now, choose,” he said, drawing his
sword with the right hand, and, with the left, by the same motion
taking a pistol from his belt and cocking it, but turning the point of
one weapon and the muzzle of the other to the ground—“choose if you
will have this hall floated with blood, or if you will grant me the
decisive interview with my affianced bride which the laws of God and
the country alike entitle me to demand.”
[Illustration]
All recoiled at the sound of his voice and the determined action by
which it was accompanied; for the ecstasy of real desperation seldom
fails to overpower the less energetic passions by which it may be
opposed. The clergyman was the first to speak. “In the name of God,” he
said, “receive an overture of peace from the meanest of His servants.
What this honourable person demands, albeit it is urged with over
violence, hath yet in it something of reason. Let him hear from Miss
Lucy’s own lips that she hath dutifully acceded to the will of her
parents, and repenteth her of her covenant with him; and when he is
assured of this he will depart in peace unto his own dwelling, and
cumber us no more. Alas! the workings of the ancient Adam are strong
even in the regenerate; surely we should have long-suffering with those
who, being yet in the gall of bitterness and bond of iniquity, are
swept forward by the uncontrollable current of worldly passion. Let
then, the Master of Ravenswood have the interview on which he
insisteth; it can but be as a passing pang to this honourable maiden,
since her faith is now irrevocably pledged to the choice of her
parents. Let it, I say, be this: it belongeth to my functions to
entreat your honours’ compliance with this headling overture.”
“Never!” answered Lady Ashton, whose rage had now overcome her first
surprise and terror—“never shall this man speak in private with my
daughter, the affianced bride of another! pass from this room who will,
I remain here. I fear neither his violence nor his weapons, though
some,” she said, glancing a look towards Colonel Ashton, “who bear my
name appear more moved by them.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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