CHAPTER XXVII.
… “The author of that crime,
Inconceivable—is he my father?”
Edmund, on his return to the ball room, made the best of his way, scarcely conscious what he did, to the very spot he had left; where, fixing his eyes again on the same object on which he had been gazing when called away by the juggler, he fell into a profound reverie. “What could have been the motive of the violence offered him? To whom could his existence—to whom could his destruction be of so much importance? He was not then too contemptible to have enemies!” A strange sensation, approaching to satisfaction, accompanied the thought.
The bustle attendant on changing partners, reminded him that Julia was engaged to him for the next set; he put in his claim, and was soon recalled to a sense of pleasure, for Julia was leaning on his arm. A shudder followed, however, as he thought of the mysterious words of the ruffian stranger. Again and again he told himself that they had been uttered but to throw him off his guard. While the villain spoke, had not his eye been ever watchful? had not his hand grasped the drawn sword beneath his cloak? evidently awaiting a moment of excited feeling, to strike the blow the more securely. But this solution of the affair, rational and just as it was, did not suffice to set his mind at rest. Might he not be connected with Julia’s family in some way as disgraceful to himself as fatal to his mad attachment? Might not some secret agent have been in consequence employed to put an end to his miserable existence, lest he should entail disgrace and crime on all connected with him? There were then beings connected with him! Who were those beings? and where were they? A thought of horror next crossed his mind: could it have been a parent who had employed the murderer’s hand, to blot out shame with blood? and his heart shrunk from a surmise too dreadful to be dwelt upon.
It had been previously arranged that the dance now about to commence was to take place in another apartment. The couples accordingly set out; Julia and Edmund led their own party, while before, behind, and on either side, moved a consolidated crowd in the same direction; so that retreat from the relative position once taken up was quite out of the question. Our hero and heroine were, consequently, obliged to keep, for a considerable time, a very painful situation in the immediate rear of a talkative party, who, without once looking behind them, proceeded with the following dialogue.