"Think, dear lady—think," said he, "of the ruin that hangs over thee and thy house."
"Do thou rather reflect on that, and remember that, were I to wed thee, for ever wouldst thou lose the favour of James, the cardinal, and their obsequious parliament; destroying thyself without lessening one iota the thousand pitiless severities to which the knights and barons of our faction are subjected."
"Nay, lady, nay; I who have done, can undo. Many of those acts of proscription and severity were enacted by my advice and by my influence."
"Another incentive to abhor thee."
"But I can restore the banished to their homes,—the dishonoured to honour—the unhappy to happiness—the ruined and despairing to wealth and affluence; and to do all this by a word lies with thee alone."
"St. Mary! I know not whether to weep with vexation or laugh at thee with scorn," said Jane, in great distress and perplexity, for she could not but acknowledge mentally that he spoke the truth. "Oh, Vipont! Vipont!" she added, in a low voice, "assuredly thou hast abandoned me."
Another wild gleam passed over the eyes of Redhall.
"Rash woman, how thou bravest me! if thy heart, insensible as it is, has neither love for me, nor pity for the knights and nobles of thy race, surely at least it will tremble for thyself! Behold this warrant," he continued, drawing a parchment from his bosom; "from this house, Jane Seton, thou canst only pass to the castle of Edinburgh. Here are accusations of treason; of conspiring with the English; of resetting rebels; and worse, oh! worse a thousand times than all—sorcery, and compassing, by spell and charm, the life of Queen Magdalene."
He paused, and his lowering countenance assumed a diabolical expression; for his stormy passions were wavering (as he had said) between excess of love and excess of hate.
"Ponder well upon my offer, and deeper upon my threat; respect the first, and—fear the second. Life, honour, power, and happiness are in my right hand; trial and torture, disgrace and death, the stake and the gibbet, are in my left. Here, love the most tender and most true; there, revenge revelling like an unchained fiend! Think, think, oh! for mercy's sake—for pity's sake; and for the love of God, think, ere thou dost for the last time pause or repel me."