Here Rowland paused for a reply; but as Henry did not choose to make any, he continued:
'When you considered me to be nothing but the master of a paltry Indiaman, you treated me with haughtiness, contempt, and scorn that I never did forgive, and never shall.'
'You was treated by me, as in my estimation, you deserved to be,' replied Henry, boldly.
'Very well,' answered Rowland, as a sardonic grin illuminated his flexible countenance, 'as you are self-condemned on that charge, there is no occasion for me to bring forward the others, so to-morrow morning you die!'
'Oh! say not so, but recall your cruel words!' exclaimed Mary Hamilton, as she rushed into Rowland's presence from the inner apartment.
'Ha! who have we here?' exclaimed Rowland, as the wild tones of Mary's voice fell upon his ear.
'You see before you, sir,' replied Miss Hamilton, 'a poor unfortunate girl who only claims from you the boon of her friend's life.'
'You plead in vain, Miss Hamilton,' answered Rowland, coldly, 'his life has been twice forfeited, and were an angel from Heaven to ask it, it would avail nothing—he must and shall die.'
'Then will I die with him!'
'Ha! sits the wind in that quarter,' muttered Rowland in a low tone, then raising his voice, and addressing Mary, he said: