"The warnings of a man who comes with the tissue of falsehood, are of little worth. Keep them to yourself."
"Beware how you presume on my forbearance; it may give way."
"I presume on nothing but your cowardice."
"Enough! enough! I will bear no more! I go, but you will see me soon again! Your doom is sealed! 'Cowardice!' This from a woman! Gods! but I'll remember this in my revenge!"
He started, as if to leave the place, but turned again, and said.
"Girl, I dislike to leave you in this manner. For the love I bear you, I would still see you happy—happy as a wife and not a despised outcast—the scorn of society. You might once have been my honorable bride; yes, you might still be. Passing by all your insults, I would still offer you my hand, and honorable marriage."
"Infamous villain! how dare you insult my self-respect by even naming such a thing? Never dare again, to couple my name with yours! never, sir! It is the basest sacrilege to humanity!"
"Very well. Our names shall not be coupled; our destinies shall be! Go, with the consoling thought to cheer you for a few fleeting hours. Here I stand and swear it—witness my oath, ye trees! witness it, earth and sky! and, if such beings there are, witness it, angels and devils—Ellen Walton shall be mine!"
He was so deeply absorbed in calling on his witnesses, he noticed nothing about him, and now looking to the spot where she stood, to observe the effect of his words, behold, Ellen was not there. His tragic agony had been wasted on the "desert air." Turning away once more, he left the place in a rage.
Ellen, though she had left, heard his words in the distance, and notwithstanding she had made a show of boldness, she was really alarmed, and greatly dreaded the future. She knew that an evil-minded man, however contemptible, was capable of doing infinite harm to a fellow-being, when determinedly set thereon. Thus, between hope and fear, her time was passed.