CHAPTER X.
| If you have ears that will be pierced, or eyes That can be open'd, a heart that may be touch'd, Or any part that yet sounds man about you; If you have touch of holy saints or heaven, Do me the grace to let me 'scape: If not, Be bountiful, and kill me. You do know, I am a creature hither ill betray'd By one whose shame I would forget it were. BEN JONSON—Volpone, or the Fox. |
Catherine was now so far recovered as to be able to comprehend her situation in full; and although Hyland Gilbert rode at her side, thus assuring her of protection from all further rudeness, her terrors increased, and were mingled with the most insupportable anguish of spirit. It was in vain that he conjured her to be composed, and vainer yet when he sought to pacify her by expressions indicative of affection and tenderness.
"Take me to my father, Herman," she cried, clasping her hands, and even endeavouring to grasp his own. "Oh, take me but back, and I will forgive you—I will forgive all!"
"Be composed, Catherine, I entreat you"—— But her only answer was, "My father! my poor father!"
"You shall see him, Catherine. I take you not from him, but from Henry Falconer."
"I will never marry him," cried the unhappy girl: "take me but back and I will tell them all, and it shall go no further. Take me but back, and I will forget all,—I will forgive all. Take me but back, and let me die."
In this manner, her mind overcome by but one thought and one feeling, she murmured prayer after prayer, and adjuration after adjuration, until her entreaties became almost frenzied, and Hyland, alarmed and shocked, half repented the act which had brought her to such a pass. Her agitation was not diminished, when Oran, who rode at the other side, and had for a long time maintained a stern silence, and apparent disregard of what passed between them, at last uttered an interjection of impatience, and bade Hyland ride away, and leave her to him.
"The folly but grows upon her in your presence," he said: "it must be checked."
"Leave me not, Herman!" she cried, starting so wildly from the rude Oran, that, had he not arrested the effort, she would have leaped from the horse, in the effort to reach him whom she felt to be her truest protector: "leave me not, Herman, for the sake of the mother who bore you!—leave me not in the hands of any of these rude men!"