“Ah, you come in good time!” cried Everell. “I refuse my liberty at the price you set. She shall not marry another to save me.”
“’Tis too late, sir,” said Foxwell, with forced quietness; “she has already bound herself by her promise.”
“Then give her back her promise, as I give myself back to you!”
“Pardon me, but you have no part in the covenant: ’tis between my niece and myself—your liberty for her promise. Even were she inclined to cancel the agreement, she cannot do so now: I have given your liberty, have performed my part: she is bound by her promise.”
“You see ’tis too late, Everell,” said Georgiana, in whom every other feeling yielded to anxiety for his safety; “you cannot mend matters now. Save yourself—at least that!—for my sake!”
For a moment her lover was thoughtful. He threw back his cloak at both shoulders, so that it hung behind him. To enforce her plea, Georgiana laid her hand upon his arm: she stepped forward so that she now stood beside him.
“But I am not bound by her promise,” said Everell to Foxwell.
“You are no longer bound by anything, sir, to me,” Foxwell replied. “If you insist upon staying in this neighbourhood, ’tis at your own peril. And I warrant you ’twill avail nothing: I shall see that my niece neither leaves her apartments, nor communicates with any one outside them, until her marriage; you force me to that use of my authority.”
Before Everell could answer, a voice was heard in the hall doorway behind him—Caleb’s voice, addressed to Foxwell: “Please, your Honour, Joseph has the horse ready, sir.”
The word “horse” shot through the confusion of Everell’s thoughts.