England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Love stories; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
"Man!" returned the Sibyl, "you speak lightly. Have I spoken lightly to
You? I warn you to bow your wicked will before a Will that is mightier
than yours. The spirits of these children are kindred spirits. For time
and for eternity they are united one to the other. Put land and sea
between them--they will still be together; they will communicate in
visions, they will be revealed to each other in dreams. Bind them by
worldly ties; wed your son, in the time to come, to another woman, and
my grand-daughter to another man. In vain! I tell you, in vain! You may
doom them to misery, you may drive them to sin--the day of their union
on earth is still a day predestined in heaven. It will come! it will
come! Submit, while the time for submission is yours. You are a doomed
man. I see the shadow of disaster, I see the seal of death, on your
face. Go; and leave these consecrated ones to walk the dark ways of
the world together, in the strength of their innocence, in the light of
their love. Go--and God forgive you!" In spite of himself, my father was
struck by the irresistible strength of conviction which inspired those
words. The bailiff's mother had impressed him as a tragic actress might
have impressed him on the stage. She had checked the mocking answer on
his lips, but she had not shaken his iron will. His face was as hard as
ever when he turned my way once more.
"The last chance, George," he said, and counted the last number:
"Three!"
I neither moved nor answered him.
"You _will_ have it?" he said, as he fastened his hold on my arm.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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