"If it be a marriage of blood," said the youth, "why so let it be. They are, I firmly believe, leading Catherine Loring like a sheep to the shambles. If they mean to wed her to young Falconer against her will, why then, though there should be no other man in the world to befriend her, I will stand by her myself;——I will, Elsie," he exclaimed, impetuously; "and, if Falconer do not at once surrender his claims, I will compel him!"
"What!" cried the widow, starting from him in dismay: "What is this I hear? What! you,—have you looked at Catherine Loring, then, as a creature to be loved! Have you dared"——
"Nonsense!" cried the young man, with a visage of flame; "I am enslaved to her by gratitude, and I wish to do her a service. I owe her a life, Elsie; and I will yield it up ten times over, before she shall be driven into a marriage she abhors, and which, I believe, is breaking her heart."
"Miserable, insane, cruel young man!" cried the widow, with unexpected energy,—"and it has come to this, then? You have repaid her humanity and kindness, by stealing away her affections from her betrothed husband, and so making a lot, sorrowful enough before, still more wretched! You have"——
"Hold, Elsie," exclaimed Herman; "it is you who are insane. You told me yourself, she was averse to the match.——And, as to stealing her affections, I have done no such thing—they are not so lightly come by. If they were, Elsie,—nay, if they were really mine, Elsie, why should I not make my claim to them, as well as another? I am neither poor nor humble, neither degraded nor corrupted; in all things of worldly good, I am young Falconer's equal, and perhaps, in some, his superior."
"Ay!" cried the widow, with increasing vehemence, "and if she smiled, and if that would win her, you would shoot Harry Falconer through the brain! Is it not so? This is dreadful! Oh, young man, begone; remain not a moment longer in the valley. You will commit a crime worse than self-destruction, and one more hard to pardon!"
"I will commit no crime, Elsie; and none have I yet committed. Your anxiety is absurd; and so is your suspicion. That I have the most friendly regard for Miss Loring, the most ardent friendship, is true; but as to loving her, Elsie, that—why that is all nonsense."
"Perhaps it is," cried the widow, "and Heaven grant it may prove so. But go not near her again, do not expose yourself to the intoxication of her society. If not a wrong to yourself, it is an unkindness to her. If you talk to her of escaping from the marriage she hates, and she finds she has a friend left in the world to aid her—ah, that would ruin her! The desire of escape may madden the wisest."
"Fiddlesticks!" cried the youth; "I have no such coarse and meddling ways of testifying my regard; and a presumption of that kind would banish me from her presence for ever. But, Elsie, I tell you, I cannot bear the thought of her being married against her will."
"And how can you prevent it? By wedding her yourself? That cannot be. By breaking her heart? Yes, there you may succeed——it is breaking already; and when you have added one more pang to it, it will soon cease to suffer. Hearken, young man; if you persist in this thing, you will be a villain. Go up to the grove—get you to Jessie's sleeping place; and consider how fast you are treading in the steps of him who slew her."