“I will!” said Philip, and the tears ran down his cheeks. He walked towards Mary, and, with a faltering voice, said—“Farewell, Mary!—Farewell! I did not expect this; but do not forget me—do not give your hand to another—and we shall meet again!”
“You shall not!” interrupted the inexorable old man.
Mary implored her father, for her sake, and for the sake of her departed mother, who had loved Philip as her own son, that he would not drive him from the house, and Daniel, too, entreated; but their supplications were vain.
“Farewell, then!” said Philip; “and, though I depart in misery, let it not be with thy curse, but let the blessing of him who has been to me a father until now, go with me.”
“The blessin’ o’ Heaven be wi’ ye and around ye, Philip!” groaned the Covenanter, struggling to conceal a tear: “but, if ye will follow the dictates o’ yer rebellious heart and leave us, tak wi’ ye yer property.”
“My property!” replied Philip.
“Yer property,” returned the old man. “Twenty years has it lain in that drawer, an’ during that time eyes hae not seen it, nor fingers touched it. It will assist ye noo; an’ when ye enter the warld, may throw some light upon yer parentage.”
He went to a small drawer, and, unlocking it, took out the jewels, the bracelet, the ring, and the purse of gold, and, placing them in Philip’s hands, exclaimed—“Fareweel!—fareweel!—but it maun be!” and he turned away his head.
“O Mary!” cried Philip, “keep—keep this in remembrance of me,” as he attempted to place the ring in her hand.
“Awa, sir!” exclaimed the old man, vehemently, “wad ye bribe my bairn into disobedience, by the ornaments o’ folly an’ iniquity! Awa, ye son o’ Belial, an’ provoke me not to wrath!”