“Dim burns the once bright star of Avenel,
Dim as the beacon when the morn is nigh,
And the o'er-wearied warder leaves the light-house;
There is an influence sorrowful and fearful.
That dogs its downward course. Disastrous passion,
Fierce hate and rivalry, are in the aspect
That lowers upon its fortunes.”
“And rivalry?” repeated Glendinning; “it is, then, as I feared!--But
shall that English silkworm presume to beard me in my father's house,
and in the presence of Mary Avenel?--Give me to meet him, spirit--give
me to do away the vain distinction of rank on which he refuses me the
combat. Place us on equal terms, and gleam the stars with what aspect
they will, the sword of my father shall control their influences.”