“Ah, my good sir!” and Edgar Sherwood’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, “do not be deceived in this. The colonists, though few in number, have been compelled from the beginning to be self-reliant, and have been made strong by their mother’s neglect. Heretofore they have built fortifications, raised armies, and fought battles for England’s glory and their own preservation, without England’s aid and without her sympathy; and, think you now they can not do this again, with twofold zeal, for themselves?”
Thomas Lear was beginning to chafe under the young man’s patriotic words, and perceiving that he could not persuade him to abandon his purpose, he became very angry.
“I ask you once more, Sherwood,” said he, “to pause and consider the consequences; think—I entreat you—of my daughter, Imogene, before you take this rash step.”
“I have considered it all, sir, but my mind remains the same.”
Lear grew deathly pale with rage at these last words. Thomas Lear was a rich man, and he had long counted upon having Edgar Sherwood for a son-in-law, but this could not be under these circumstances. He dashed his wine-glass savagely upon the table, and sprung to his feet.
“You are mad! stark mad!” he cried. “Henceforth our connection is severed; never dare to cross my threshold again, for you are a traitor to your king, sir—begone!”
Having uttered these words, the old man sunk back in his chair perfectly exhausted.
At this moment, the door was suddenly thrown open, and Imogene Lear—Edgar Sherwood’s betrothed—appeared upon the scene.
“Oh, father!” she cried, casting herself at the feet of her parent, “I implore you to have mercy! Recall your words—forgive!”
“Never!” cried Lear.