"'For the sake of human nature, Mr. Wates,' said Mary, 'I will suppose that your intentions are now honourable. I will believe that you mean kindly, that you are willing to assist my parents, and rescue them from their distress. But, could I even forget the past--could I forget that for many months you have sought my destruction, and have striven to make me become that which would have made me to be despised in my own eyes, and an outcast in those of others--if, sir, I could even forget these things, I could not give my hand to one whom my heart has been accustomed to detest. For your offered kindness I would thank you with tears, but I can only repay you with gratitude. If, however, your assistance to my parents is only to be procured through my consenting to your wishes, they must remain as they now are, until it shall please providence to send them a more disinterested deliverer. Betwixt us there is a gulf fixed that shall ever divide us--it is death and aversion--therefore think not of me.' "'Daughter!' cried the old man wrathfully, 'hast thou taken leave of thy senses altogether?' "'Come, Mary, love,' said her mother; 'now that poor William must be no more, and that Mr. Wates means honourably, be not obstinate--do not suffer your father to die in a place like this, and your mother to beg upon the streets.' "'Mother!' cried Mary, vehemently, 'with the last of my blood will I toil for your support; but speak not of that man to me. Keep, sir, your wealth for one to whom it may have attractions, and to whom you have never offered dishonour. I despise it, and I despise you; and this shallow and cruel artifice will avail you nothing.' "'Consent,' said Wates, 'and to-night our hands shall be united.' "'Wife! wife!' cried the old man, 'we will humble ourselves at her feet; belike she won't see her father and mother weeping, on their knees before her, and say to them--die!' And they knelt before her. "'Rise! my parents!--rise!' she exclaimed; 'if ye would not have your daughter's blood upon your head. Monster!' she added, turning to Wates, 'can ye talk of marriage to me, when he to whom my heart and vows are given, if he be not already dead, must in a few hours die a death of shame!' "'And will you not save him,' said Wates, eagerly. "'Save him!--how? how?' she cried. "'Consent to be mine, and within an hour I shall procure his pardon,' said he. "'Villain! villain! would you deceive me with the snare of the devil?' she exclaimed. "'I swear it,' he answered. "'Save him! save him!' she exclaimed wildly; but again cried suddenly--'No, no!--wretch, ye mock me!' "'Yes, he mocks you, Mary,' said Jack Jenkins, who had just entered. 'I could find in my heart to kick the old murderer through those iron gratings; for I know it is all through him that poor Bill must, before the sun go down, lose his life.'