‘I want not to hear them, they cannot make any alteration in my determination,’ answered our heroine, covering her face with her handkerchief, and sobbing aloud with her disgusted and wounded feelings. ‘Still must I think that you will change your mind;’ returned Blodget with the same guilty expression of countenance in which his features were almost constantly clad—‘remember the sweets of liberty will then be yours.’ ‘And of what use would liberty be to me, when it would be purchased by a life of infamy?’ demanded Inez; ‘could anything ever reconcile it to my conscience, to become the base paramour of a guilty being like you? The bare thought fills me with a sensation of the utmost dread, and death in its most horrible form would be preferable to such a course of life.’ ‘But is there nothing that could prevail upon you?’ ‘Nothing;’ answered Inez, with a look of the greatest disgust and horror. ‘Think again!’ ‘I have nothing more to say upon the detested subject.’ ‘If, by so doing, you could purchase the life of Monteagle—’ ‘Ah!’ grasped forth Inez, turning deadly pale, and clutching the arm of Blodget, and with distended eye-lids;—‘what mean you? Speak! speak!—I know you have something of a particular nature to impart to me! Reveal it! I beseech you, and keep me not in suspense!—Oh, Blodget if you have indeed any regard for my feelings, tell me, what of Monteagle?’ ‘Calm your feelings!’ ‘You rack me!’ ‘Compose yourself!’ ‘Talk not to me of composure!’ shrieked Inez. ‘He is in my power.’ Poor Inez tried hard to speak, but she could not; she was transfixed to the spot, and gazed upon Blodget with a look in which the greatest astonishment and horror were depicted. The announcement of Blodget came like a thunderbolt upon her, and her faculties seemed to be all bound up in the suddenness and unexpectedness of the circumstance. ‘If you are not a monster of the blackest dye,’ exclaimed Inez at length, ‘you will not delight in thus harrowing my feelings! but tell me have you spoken the truth? Do not keep me in suspense! Oh, do not! Have you indeed said that which is true?’ ‘I have,’ answered Blodget;—‘Monteagle is now in my power.’ ‘Are you bent to drive me mad?’ exclaimed the frenzied Inez, as, with clasped hands, she gazed vehemently and supplicatingly in the countenance of her oppressor. ‘No, no! I would restore you to happiness,’ replied Blodget. ‘Happiness!’ groaned Inez; ‘oh, cruel mockery to talk to me thus; and to continue to keep me in this state of agony and suspense.’ ‘Compose yourself,’ again remonstrated Blodget, in a gentler tone, than he had before spoken, and at the same time venturing to approach her closer; ‘compose yourself. Consent to my wishes, and Monteagle shall at once be free.—Refuse he dies!’ ‘Never, miscreant!’ cried Inez, and fell powerless to the floor. Blodget was alarmed,—so still and marble-like did the fair girl lie. No motion of her white bosom gave the slightest evidence that she breathed.