Edwin, at Roseline's earnest request, was to inform Walter of the dangers which encompassed them, and of the formidable rival who had appeared to interrupt their happiness; but she insisted on his concealing from him the name of that rival, begging him not to give a hint of his fortune or consequence. Eager to save her lover from feeling such pangs as she herself had endured, she entreated he would soften the sad tidings he conveyed, by assuring him he had nothing to fear from herself, as her affection was equally tender and sincere.
When Edwin had imparted the unwelcome news to the prisoner, though he observed the strictest caution, and worded the heart-wounding communication in language best calculated to sooth and quiet those tormenting apprehensions, to which it would unavoidably give birth, the effect it had on the unhappy sufferer was dreadful. His agonies disclosed to the astonished Edwin the strength of an affection which, while it alarmed him, demanded the utmost pity; and, at that moment, had he possessed the power of disposing of the hand of his sister, he would sooner have presented it to his unfortunate friend than to the greatest monarch upon earth.
Roseline dared not venture to see him for several succeeding hours, and no sooner were his watchful and inpatient eyes gratified by her entrance into his solitary apartment, than he hastily arose; and, throwing himself at her feet, almost inarticulately entreated her to pronounce his doom.
"Tell me, (cried he,) if you, my only earthly treasure, must be wrested from me for ever?—if I must not longer hear the soft sound of that gentle voice, sweeter and more melodious than celestial music? I can die without reproaching, but I cannot exist without seeing you; and I will never, never live one hour after you have given your hand to another.—Madness and torture are united in that thought!—Let us fly,—let us leave this horrid castle!—The world is all before us: love shall be our guide. Surely we can find one little sacred spot that will shelter us from persecution and tyranny; if not, we can wander, beg, and at last die, together."
"Have patience, my generous, my beloved Walter, (cried the weeping Roseline;)—I yet trust we shall not be reduced to the hard, the degrading necessity of taking such desperate and improper steps to preserve our faith unbroken. Be assured of this, and endeavour to rest satisfied with a promise I will ever hold sacred,—that, while our continue the unrivalled possessor of my heart, only actual force shall compel me to give my had to your rival; and I think I may venture to say, if I know any thing of my father's disposition, unkind as it appears at present, he will never go to such unwarrantable and unnatural lengths to gratify an ambition I never suspected had found place in his mind."
"Ah! (said the prisoner) you little know, you cannot suspect to what lengths pride and ambition will carry unfeeling people. I am their victim, and if I thought you were to suffer as I have done—"
"Attempt not to think about it," interrupted Roseline.
"Consent then to escape this very night. If we stop to deliberate we are lost,—we are separated for ever! You know not what such love as mine, when called into action, and blest with liberty, would enable me to do, to preserve a treasure so dear and estimable. Albert would go with us: with his direction and assistance, surely we could procure sufficient from the bowels of the earth to support you in ease and plenty, if not in affluence."
The entrance of Albert luckily put an end to a conversation which was become too tender and painful for Roseline any longer to have kept up that appearance of composure which was absolutely necessary to quiet the tormenting apprehensions of her lover; she therefore immediately availed herself of the opportunity to quit his apartment, and retired to her own.
Within rather less than a week after Roseline's interview with her father, the alteration which took place in her was such as could not pass unobserved, but it was wholly imputed to indisposition. She became much thinner; the rose of health was fled from a countenance no longer marked with animation. She had no spirits, and was seldom seen to smile; even the playful fondness of her sister Bertha ceased to interest or entertain her.