“If you had studied all your life to devise a cruel sentence, your study could not have brought to life a more wicked one than this. No, Joseph Van Zandt, you have had my answer. I have nerved myself to meet death, if it must be, sooner than be your wife.”
“You must swear it upon the cross,” he rejoined, “lest a worse fate come to you. Reflect, and tell me if there is not at least one thing worse than death. Reflect, too, that this fate shall be yours, and that of the sniveling fool in the next room, if you refuse. The threat of what I would do has driven your brave friend away from the house. I have sworn to do it, and I will keep my word.”
“God will protect me.”
“I am an unbeliever. Your faith can not shake me. Perhaps He will protect you. Perhaps He will batter down these strong gates, and let your friend in. It is very probable! Foolish girl! yield while the way is clear.”
“No, I will not. My friends will attack the house and set me free. You shall feel what it is to arouse the vengeance of a true man. Go; you are a coward. The heart of a dog beats in your breast. You threaten a woman, and make her love for her friends work against her for your own foul ends. You never had one true feeling in your heart. What you call love for me is only a passion, which would burn itself out in a twelve-month. Leave me, and do your worst.”
He rushed from the room, closing the door violently behind him. Carl stood with his face against the wall of the room, gnawing his nether lip with such energy that the blood started from beneath his white teeth. The two men saw in each other’s faces the mirror wherein to read their own hearts.
“I hear strange sounds,” said Carl; “and blood seems to run before my eyes. If she were to open that door now, I should kill her. I am getting mad, I think. Was I not right about that devil upon earth? I will kill him yet, for he is the cause of all this.”
“You were right enough. He is a brave fellow, in his gay clothes.”
“To see him now, with his hair curled and his sword at his thigh! To hear the grand tone in which he speaks! Will he take her, now that she is in a more lowly station than he? It would be much to hope that he would slight her now. Oh, that he would?”
“But he will not. These Puritans have queer ideas of honor, and would think it a shame to their manhood to break faith plighted to a woman. I have given your little fool a bitter pill to swallow. I told her he was dead. She heard enough of our conversation to hear us say that, and she believes it. Do these rascals show any signs of a desire to attack us?”