Scene VIII.
Norton, Mellefont, Sara.
MELLEFONT.
What do you want?
NORTON.
While I was standing before the house, a servant gave me this letter. It is directed to you, sir!
MELLEFONT.
To me? Who knows my name here? (looking at the letter). Good heavens!
SARA.
You are startled.
MELLEFONT.
But without cause, Sara, as I now perceive. I was mistaken in the handwriting.
SARA.
May the contents be as agreeable to you as you can wish.
MELLEFONT.
I suspect that they will be of very little importance.
SARA.
One is less constrained when one is alone, so allow me to retire to my room again.
MELLEFONT.
You entertain suspicions, then, about it?
SARA.
Not at all, Mellefont.
MELLEFONT (going with her to the back of the stage).
I shall be with you in a moment, dearest Sara.
Scene IX.
Mellefont, Norton.
MELLEFONT (still looking at the letter).
Just Heaven!
NORTON.
Woe to you, if it is only just!
MELLEFONT.
Is it possible? I see this cursed handwriting again and am not chilled with terror? Is it she? Is it not she? Why do I still doubt? It is she! Alas, friend, a letter from Marwood! What fury, what demon has betrayed my abode to her? What does she still want from me? Go, make preparations immediately that we may get away from here. Yet stop! Perhaps it is unnecessary; perhaps the contempt of my farewell letters has only caused Marwood to reply with equal contempt. There, open the letter; read it! I am afraid to do it myself.
NORTON (reads).
"If you will deign, Mellefont, to glance at the name which you will find at the bottom of the page, it will be to me as though I had written you the longest of letters."
MELLEFONT.
Curse the name! Would I had never heard it! Would it could be erased from the book of the living!
NORTON (reads on).
"The labour of finding you out has been sweetened by the love which helped me in my search."
MELLEFONT.
Love? Wanton creature! You profane the words which belong to virtue alone.
NORTON (continues).
"Love has done more still"----
MELLEFONT.
I tremble----
NORTON.
"It has brought me to you"----
MELLEFONT.
Traitor, what are you reading? (snatches the letter from his hand and reads himself). "I am here; and it rests with you, whether you will await a visit from me, or whether you will anticipate mine by one from you. Marwood." What a thunderbolt! She is here! Where is she? She shall atone for this audacity with her life!
NORTON.
With her life? One glance from her and you will be again at her feet. Take care what you do! You must not speak with her, or the misfortunes of your poor young lady will be complete.
MELLEFONT.
O, wretched man that I am! No, I must speak with her! She would go even into Sara's room in search of me, and would vent all her rage on the innocent girl.
NORTON.
But, sir----
MELLEFONT.
Not a word! Let me see (looking at the letter) whether she has given the address. Here it is! Come, show me the way! (Exeunt).