‘Oh, no more!’ I interrupted, darting forward in excessive agitation; ‘in mercy, oh, no more.’
‘Ha!’ groaned my father, as he recognized me and retreated from me, ‘away! away! away!’
In a wild delirium of agony, I followed him on my knees, exclaiming, in frantic accents,—
‘Your vengeance cannot make you deaf to the agony of a despairing child; behold me on my knees; I bring the sacrifice of a broken spirit. I do not ask your love till you know I am worthy of being loved. I do not ask your confidence till you feel I can be trusted; but do not deny me the shelter of your paternal roof.’
‘My father spurned me violently from him, and as he did so, he cried, in hoarse tones,—
‘Hence! hence!—I know you not! My sight rejects you—spurns you! If you have wasted all the spoils of guilt, there—there’s gold! Your idol, gold! for which you bartered all your hopes of bliss!’
He dashed a purse furiously to the earth as he spoke, and hastened towards my mother, fixing upon me looks of scorn and hatred. Oh, Heaven! how each glance penetrated to my soul! How every word burnt to my heart! It was wonderful that reason could retain her empire in that trying scene.
‘Father! father!’ I implored, with redoubled vehemence, ‘hear me, I beseech you.’
‘Husband, dearest husband!’ supplicated my mother, ‘hear her, she is innocent.’
‘Innocent!’ he reiterated, ‘she innocent! No, no, impossible!—she left us; left her happy parents—her happy home—to follow a villain!’