“Yes, I am he,” said Reginald, taking a seat. “Reginald Preston, at your service, Miss Vale; one who has loved you does now, and always will.”
Perhaps there was something of mockery in his tone as the officer spoke of love; for, at his words, Catherine grew pale, and visibly trembled—her courage, for the moment, gone.
“Do you then guess,” said Preston, seeing that Catherine would not or could not speak, “who it is that has shown himself so solicitous for your welfare? Foolish girl! you reject my offers and think you can toss me off as a child’s plaything; but you shall find me one not to be thwarted.”
A sob was the only answer. Such a sob! It went to the heart even of that unfeeling profligate. Tears sometimes effect what a world in arms could never accomplish. The heart of the British captain was moved—he had not expected tears. But it was only for a moment; then the old flood of passion rushed over him again, and the good angel of pity was driven scornfully away. He grew haughty and bade her be silent. Then burst forth: “Girl, better for you to have died than to have done as you have. Wantoning in beauty as you are, you have led me on till I made a fool of myself—till I was mad enough to actually dream of allying myself to one so far beneath me in rank; then, curses on it, you tell me to leave you, that I can never be beloved, casting me aside with as little ceremony as if I had been an old garment. Now hear me! Mine you are, body and soul. Mine till, tired of you, I throw you aside as recklessly as a worn-out coat. Weep over it. Shed bitter tears; but so it is, and no spark of pity shall show itself. As you had no pity on me, thus it shall be returned; and that tenfold, my country beauty.”
In the man hissing out these sentences, it would have been difficult to recognize the one who had whispered so many soft words in woman’s ear—who seemed, to the casual observer, to be the true gentleman, well-bred and courteous at the heart. He had spoken too much, however. All the trepidation in the heart of the girl was now gone; the true woman had come back to her, and she was now daring enough to encounter a dozen such wretches.
“You tell, sir, what is untrue, when you insinuate that I ever did ought to inspire you with a passion for me. From the first moment I saw you, I feared you, and my forebodings have only proved too true. Urged on by your own perverse passion, you have sought to bend me to your will; but, being foiled when you used fair means, you have descended to foul. But here, as before, you shall not succeed. If needs be, I can die; but, sir, dread the avenging of that death! Whether I go from here alive or not, I tell you I hate and defy you!”
Maddened with anger, Reginald strode forward as though about to strike her. With a quick spring Kate reached the table, and seizing a heavy pitcher, she collectedly waited for him to attempt his worst. This action served to restrain Preston. His arm had not yet recovered from the wound received at the hands of John Vale, and was supported in a sling.
“That proud spirit of yours shall bend, and the fire that sparkles in your eye shall dim, ere many days have flown. For the present rest undisturbed, and while you have time, think whether it be not better to conciliate than to defy.”
He turned away, unlocked the door, and removed his hateful presence from Catherine’s sight.
“By heavens!” he muttered, as he gained the passage; “it were better for me not to attempt a passage-at-arms till this arm of mine gets stronger. I believe she would as soon scatter my brains with that pitcher as wring the neck of a young chicken. Chicken! bah! I’m more than half one, myself, to let her rant on as she did, and then run away for fear of doing something worthy of future repentance! When I should be cool I get into the very white-heat of passion; and if there was any thing to be gained in becoming so, I would be cold as an iceberg! A man has to study hard before he can become a match for a woman’s tongue and fingers.”