The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 4 of 5)Burney, Fanny
History
The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 4 of 5)
Burney, Fanny
France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Refugees -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Refugees -- Fiction; War stories
Casting off her veil when she perceived Harleigh, 'Here! Harleigh,
here!' she cried, in a tone authoritative, though tremulous, ''tis here
you must reciprocate your vows! Here is the spot! Here stands the altar
for the happy;--here, the tomb for the hopeless!'
Suspicious of some sinister purpose, Harleigh was at her side with the
swiftness of lightening; but not till her fingers were upon the trigger
of a pistol, which she had pointed to her temple; though in time, by
attaining her arm, and forcibly giving it a new direction, to make her
fire the deadly weapon in the air.
Her own design, nevertheless, seconded by the loud din of a pistol, so
close to her ear, and let off by her own hand, operated upon her
deranged imagination with a belief that her purpose was fulfilled; and
she sunk upon the ground, uttering, with a deep groan, 'Oh Harleigh!
bless the dying Elinor,--and be happy!--'
Harleigh, terrified and shocked, though thankfully perceiving her
mistake, dropped down at her side, and supported her head; while
congratulating eyes stole a glance at Juliet; who, at the sound of the
pistol, had hastened, aghast, to the spot; but who now, dreading to be
seen, retreated.
'Oh Elinor!' he then cried, 'what direful infatuation of wrong is
this!--What have you done with your nobler, better self?--How have you
thus warped your reason and your religion alike, to an equal and
terrible defiance of here and hereafter?'
Recovering, at these interrogatories, to conscious failure, and
conscious existence, she hastily arose, indignantly spurned at the
tablet, looked around for Juliet with every mark of irritation, and,
casting a glance of suffering, yet investigating shame at Harleigh,
''Tis again, then,' she cried, 'abortive!--and, a third time, I am food,
for fools,--when I meant to be food only for worms!'
She then peremptorily demanded Juliet; who, affrighted, was absconding,
till shrieks rather than calls forced her forward.
With an exaltation so violent that it seemed incipient frenzy, Elinor
hailed her. 'Approach, Ellis, approach!' she cried. 'Oh chosen of the
chosen! Oh born to shew, and prove the perfectibility of earthly
happiness, and the falsehood and sophistry of the ignorance and
superstition that deny it! Approach! and let me sanction your nuptial
contract! I here solemnly give you back your promise. I renounce all tie
over your actions, your engagements, your choice. Approach, then, that I
may join your hands, while I quaff my last draught of tender poison from
the grateful eyes of Harleigh, whose happiness,--my own donation!--will
cast a glory upon my exit!'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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