Mimic benevolence and virtue no more, Clifton! It is base in you! It is
beneath a mind like yours!--You are a mistaken man! Dreadfully
mistaken! You think me devoted, but I am safe. Unless you kill, you
never can conquer me! Beware! Turn back! Destruction is gaping for you,
if you proceed!
Need she have told me this, Fairfax? Could she think I knew it
not?--But she too is mistaken. Her courage is high, I grant, is
admirable; and, were any other but I her opponent, as she says, not
to be conquered! I adore the noble qualities of her mind; but great
though they are, when she defies me she over-rates them.
I own her warning was awful! My heart shrunk from it, and I retired;
taking care that she should hear me as I went, that she might be
encouraged to go to rest. My well-meant kindness was vain. She never
did confide in me, and never can. I heard her call Laura, and order her
to strike a light, set an arm chair, and bring her clothes: after which
I understood, from what I heard, that she dressed herself and sat down
in it, with her back to the door, there waiting patiently till the
morning.
How she will behave, or what she will say to Laura I cannot divine.
Most probably she will insist on banishing her the apartment; for she
never gave servants much employment, and always doubted whether the
keeping of them were not an immoral act, therefore is little in want of
their assistance.
But let her discard this treacherous and now ineffective tool. I want
her no more. I will not quit the house, Fairfax; I will neither eat nor
sleep, till I have put her to the trial which she so rashly defies! At
her uncle's table she defied me, and imagined she had gazed me into
cowardice. She knew me not: it was but making vengeance doubly sure.
This experience ere now should have taught her. Has she escaped me? Is
she not here? Does she not feel herself in the ravisher's arms? If not,
a few hours only and she shall!
Let her not be vain of this second repulse she has given me; it ought
to increase her terror, for it does but add to my despair. My
distempered soul will take no medicine but one, and that must be
administered; though more venomous than the sting of scorpion or tooth
of serpent, and more speedy in dissolution.
I left her room that she might breakfast undisturbed. There is
something admirably, astonishingly firm, in the texture of her mind.
Laura has been down, babbling to me all she knew. At eight o'clock,
when it had been light a full hour, Anna, after once or twice crossing
her chamber to consider, turned the key and resolutely opened the door;
expecting by her manner, Laura says, to see me rush in; for she threw
it suddenly open, as if fearful it should knock her down.
She walked out, looked steadfastly around, examined every part of the
chamber, and after having convinced herself I was not there, sat down
to write at the table where not an hour before I had been seated.
When the breakfast was brought, she bade Laura take it away again;
saying she had no appetite: but immediately recollecting herself,
ejaculated--'Fie!--It is weak! It is wrong!'--and added--'Stay Laura!
Put it down again!'
She then, with a calm and determined sedateness, began to serve herself
and Laura; treating this perfidious woman [For no matter that I made
her so, such she is.] with the same equanimity of temper and amenity as
formerly. The mistress ate, for she was innocent and resolved; but the
maid could not, for she was guilty and in a continual tremor. 'Be
pacified'--said Anna to her--Compose your thoughts, and take your
breakfast. I am much more sorry for than angry at the part you have
acted. You have done yourself great injury, but me none: at least, so I
trust!--Be appeased and eat your breakfast. Or, if you cannot eat with
me, go down and eat it in peace below.'
The benevolent suavity of this angel has made the light-minded hussey
half break her heart. Her penitential tears now flow in abundance; and
she has been officiously endeavouring to petition me not to harm so
good, so forgiving, so heavenly a young lady! I begin to fear she would
willingly be a traitor next to me, and endeavour to open the doors for
her mistress. But that I will prevent. I will not quit the house till
all is over! I have said it, Fairfax!
I will then immediately set Henley free, tell him where she is, where I
am to be found, and leave him to seek his own mode of vengeance! Should
he resort to the paltry refuge of law, I own that then I would elude
pursuit. But should the spirit of man stir within him, and should he
dare me to contention, I would fly to meet him in the mortal strife! He
is worthy of my arm, and I would shew how worthy I am to be his
opposite!
It is now noon, and Laura has again been with me, repeating the same
story, with additions and improvements. Anna has been talking to her,
and has made a deep impression upon her. She is all penitence and
petition, and is exceedingly troublesome, with her whining, her tears,
and her importunity, which I have found it difficult to silence.
I learn from her own account she has owned all, and betrayed all she
knew; and Anna has been telling her that she, and I, and all such
sinners however deep and deadly, ought to be pitied, counselled, and
reformed; and that our errors only ought to be treated with contempt,
disdain, and hatred. She has talked to her in the most gentle,
soothing, and sympathetic manner; till the fool's heart is ready to
burst.
Anna has drawn a picture of my state of mind which has terrified
her--And so it ought!--She has been sobbing, kneeling, and praying,
for my sake, for Anna's sake, for God's sake to be merciful, and do
no more mischief! 'Her mistress is an angel and not a woman!'--Why
true!--'Never had a young lady so forgiving, so kind, and so courageous
a heart!'--True again!--'But it is impossible, if I should be so wicked
as to lay violent hands upon her, for her not to sink, and lie for
mercy at my feet.'--Once more true, true!--
Mercy!--I have it not, know it not, nor can know! She herself has
banished it, from my breast and from her own: at least the mercy I
would ask--For could it be--? Were there not a Henley--? No, no!--There
is one wide destruction for us all! I am on the brink, and they must
down with me!--Have they not placed me there? Are they not now pulling
me, weighing me, sinking me?
This is the moment in which I would conjure up all the wrongs, insults,
contempts, and defiances she has heaped upon me--What need I?--They
come unbidden!--And now for the last act of the tragedy!
I have kept my word, Fairfax: I have been, have faced her, have--! You
shall hear! I will faithfully paint all that passed. I will do her
justice, and in this shew some sparks of magnanimity of which perhaps
she does not think me capable--No matter--
It was necessary the temper of my mind should be wound up to its
highest pitch, before I could approach her. I rushed up stairs, made
the bolts fly, and the lock start back. Yet the moment the door opened,
I hesitated--
However, I shook myself with indignation, entered, and saw her standing
firmly in the middle of the apartment, ready to assert the bold
defiance she had given me. The fixed resolution of her form, the
evident fortitude of her soul, and the steadfast encounter of her eye,
were discomfiting. Like a coward I stood I cannot tell how long, not
knowing what to say, she looking full upon me, examining my heart, and
putting thought to the rack. Benignant as she is, at such onsets of the
soul she feels no mercy.
Self-resentment at the tame crestfallen countenance I wore at last
produced an effort, and I stammered out--Madam--
Her only answer was a look--I endeavoured to meet her eye, but in vain.
I continued.--From my present manner you will perceive, madam, I am
conscious of the advantage you have over me; and that my own heart does
not entirely approve all I have done.