"Let me cry before you give me up, Cornelius; let me cry—or my heart will break."
"I give you up!" he echoed, his eyes kindling, "no mortal man shall make me do that, Daisy. I shall redeem my word by taking you to your grandfather; but from the moment I leave Thornton House, my mind shall have but one thought, my will but one aim: to get you back."
Struck with his defiant tone, I raised my head, and checking my tears, drew back to see him better. He met my look firmly.
"It is fair play," he said, "so long as you are mine, I will not break my pledge by breathing a word to keep or secure you—even with you for the stakes, I would scorn to cheat—but once he fancies you his, I say you are mine, to win if I can. He may guard you as jealously as ever a Turk his Sultana—I shall still outwit and defy him—cost me what it will— come what may—I will have you back again."
A slight frown knit his brow; his brown eyes were bent on me, with a look both ardent and resolute; there was will and confidence in the smile which curled his lip, and power and daring in his mien.
"Cornelius," I said a little startled, "how will you do it?"
"Leave that to me, Daisy."
"Then, if this is no parting after all," I observed rather perplexed, "why were you so grieved, and why have you let me grieve, Cornelius?"
His face fell. He sighed profoundly.
"Why?" he said, "why? because, alas! my own will cannot do all. Oh, Daisy! I dread you. I dread you deeply! What avails it to me that I may prevail against others, when with a word you can render me powerless?"