“I would answer with my life, willingly—but I own that I shrink from your anger.”
“Then do not provoke it.”
“I have already gone too far to recede—and you would of course demand an explanation, if I attempted to stop here.”
“I should.”
“Then, my Lord, I am bound to speak—but do not interrupt me—hear me out, before you banish me from your presence for ever.”
“I will, Sir,” replied he, prepared to hear something that would displease him, and yet determined to hear with patience to the conclusion.
“Then, my Lord,”—(cried Rushbrook, in the greatest agitation of mind and body) “Your daughter”——
The resolution Lord Elmwood had taken (and on which he had given his word to his nephew not to interrupt him) immediately gave way. The colour rose in his face—his eye darted lightning—and his hand was lifted up with the emotion, that word had created.
“You promised to hear me, my Lord!” cried Rushbrook, “and I claim your promise.”
He now suddenly overcame his violence of passion, and stood silent and resigned to hear him; but with a determined look, expressive of the vengeance that should ensue.