A cold chill struck to his heart—for he entertained a presentiment of what was about to occur: indeed, such an anticipation was natural on his part when we reflect that his soul was a prey to conscious guilt, and that the knock at the door was hasty and imperative.
For a moment he staggered as if about to fall: then, calling all his firmness to his aid, he proceeded to open the front-door, the knocking at which was repeated with increased vehemence.
His presentiment was correct;—for, scarcely had he drawn back the bolt, when the door was pushed open—and Rosamond rushed into the house.
"My dearest father!" she exclaimed, and fell insensible into his arms.
He conveyed her to a sofa in the parlour, tore off her bonnet and shawl, and sprinkled water upon her pale—her very pale countenance.
Merciful heavens! how acute—how agonising was the pang which shot to his heart, as he contemplated that lovely brow on which innocence had so lately sate enthroned, until the spoiler had pressed the heated lips of lust thereon! Then for a few moment all the father's feelings were uppermost in his soul; and he gnashed his teeth with rage at the thought that he himself was dishonoured in that dishonoured daughter!
Oh! to have given her back her purity and her self-respect,—to have known that she could raise her head proudly in maiden pride,—to have been able to embrace her as the chaste and spotless being she was ere hell suggested its accursed machinations to achieve her destruction!
But it was too late!—Here lay the ruined child—and there were piled the notes and gold which had purchased her virtue!
Three or four minutes elapsed, and still Rosamond gave no signs of returning animation. Suddenly the father desisted from his endeavours to restore her; for an infernal thought flashed to his mind.
He would suffer her to die!