For this Owen, being chivalrous by nature of the blood that had descended from Irish kings, hated himself most earnestly—nevertheless this feeling did not prevent him from following out the design that actuated his movements, even as it had become a very part of his existence.
Though the fate of nations hung in the balance, yes, even should his own life pay the penalty for his rashness—and this is by all odds the highest stake a man can play—he was resolved to settle this question once for all.
So he snatched away the veil.
He no longer breathed—in that dread moment when his hopes of a whole future hung in the balance he seemed actually to have been changed into stone.
So Lot's wife must have been petrified as she turned to look back at the burning city.
When Roderic's eyes fell upon the face that had been concealed by the veil they discovered rare beauty that was now stamped with alarm, although some show of spirit flashed from the great midnight eyes as indignation struggled with maidenly fear.
But, praise be to Heaven, the girl though so beautiful as to vie with his Georgia, was a stranger!
His demon was laid!
For that at least, thanks.
And now the consequences of his daring act must be boldly met.