A
plan--mad, impracticable as my own mad love, flashed across my brain,
and, like many other things impossible in theory, I did it! It seemed an
impossiblity to tear you from the very altar, and make you my wife, all
unknown, but I did it. I had this house here, uninhabited, furnished. I
had a friend ready to help me to the death. I disguised myself like a
hero of romance, I decoyed you here, forced you to consent, I married
you!"
Still mute, still dropping, still averted, still motionless. There was a
tremor in Hugh Ingelow's steady voice when he went on.
"How hard it was for me, what a cruel, cold-blooded monster I felt
myself, how my very heart of hearts was touched by your suffering here,
I can not tell. Besides, it would seem like mockery, since all my
compassion did not make me spare you. But from the moment you set foot
here I considered it too late; and then, besides, Mollie, I was mad with
love of you. I could not let you go. You yielded--you consented to
barter yourself for freedom, as once before you consented for gold. I
brought the Reverend Raymond Rashleigh here--he married me under my
second name of Ernest--as you know.
Pages:
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419