Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 16
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 16
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
"Well, Marion," he said, with a strong effort to suppress the emotion
with which he was struggling, "this is dreadful news to me; but I do not
blame you; or, rather, I cannot but commend you for the step you are
going to take, although it be to the destruction of my peace and
happiness in this world. But is there no way of averting this evil? Is
there no way of saving your father but by your----" Here he suddenly
stopped short. His feelings overcame him; and he could not come out with
the two words necessary to finish the sentence; he could not bring
himself to add, "marrying Maitland."
"Nane, nane, Richard," said Marion, who well knew what he would have
said; "there's nae ither way left us--nane, nane, Richard."
"But," replied the latter, "your father said, Marion, you told me, that
he will not ask you to make this sacrifice, until he sees that the
factor is determined to proceed against him, and that there is no other
means of satisfying his demands. Now, as it will be some days before he
can ascertain the former, will ye promise me, Marion, that ye will take
all the time that circumstances will afford you before you commit
yourself further with Maitland? Will you promise me this, Marion?--and,
in the meantime, I'll stir heaven and earth to save you from the fate
that's threatening you."
This promise poor Marion readily gave; and, somewhat comforted by it,
Richard left the house, to try every method he could think of, to avert
the misfortune that threatened him. But, alas! what could he do? Where
was he to raise £150 some odds, which was the amount of William
Waterstone's debt to his landlord? Under the excitation of the moment
during his interview with Marion, and under the blind and bewildering
impulses excited by it, he thought he might, by some means or other,
accomplish it. But, on coming to act on the vague and indefinite notions
on this subject which first presented themselves to him, he found them
burst like soap-bells in his grasp, until even he himself, sanguine as
he was, became convinced that the pursuit was hopeless, and that his
Marion was indeed lost to him for ever.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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