The International Monthly, Volume 4, No. 4, November 1, 1851Various
History
The International Monthly, Volume 4, No. 4, November 1, 1851
Various
Art, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- History -- Periodicals
"I have nothing to do with the present business, Mrs. Hazleton," replied
Marlow, "but I am bound to say that in consequence of information I have
procured, it would have been my duty to have caused your apprehension upon
other charges, had not this, of which I know nothing, been preferred
against you. All is discovered, madam; all is known. With a slight clue, at
first, I have pursued the intricate labyrinth of your conduct for the last
two years to its conclusion, and every thing has been made plain as day."
"You, Marlow, you?" cried Mrs. Hazleton, fixing her eyes steadfastly upon
him, and then adding, as he bowed his head in token of assent, "but all is
not known, even to you. You shall know all, however, before I die; and
perhaps to know all may wring your heart, hard though it be. But what am I
talking of?" she continued, her face becoming suddenly suffused with
crimson, and her fine features convulsed with rage. "All is discovered, is
it? And you have done it? What matters it to me, then, whose heart is
wrung--or what becomes of you, or me, or any one? A drop more or less is
nothing in the overflowing well. Why should I struggle longer? Why should I
hide any thing? Why should I fly from this charge to meet another? I did
it--I poisoned her--I put the drug by her bedside. It is all true--I did it
all--I have had my revenge as far as it could be obtained, and now do with
me what you like. But remember, Marlow, remember, if Emily Hastings marries
you, she does it with a mother's curse upon her head--a curse that will
fall upon her heart like a milldew, and wither it for ever--a curse that
will dry up the source of all fond affections, blacken the brightest hours,
and embitter the purest joys--a dying mother's curse! She knows it--she has
heard it--it can never be recalled. I have put that beyond fate. Ha ha! It
is upon you both; and if you venture to unite your unhappy destinies, may
that curse cling to you and blast you for ever."
She spoke with all the vehemence of intense passion, breaking, for the
first time in life, through strong habitual self-control; and when she had
done, she cast herself into a chair, and covered her eyes with her hands.
She wept not; but her whole frame heaved and shivered, with the terrible
emotion that tore her heart.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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