Angelina: Or, The Mystery of St. Mark's Abbey — page 171: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

184 ANGELINA Ost, lyuve given to have been the inmate of one of these veetols? Ales! it was Bard to gaze upon liberty without the means of enjoytig ite sweets, and with only the prospect of a terrible death before her eyes; and, to know that she had done nothing to deserve so shocking a fate. Many were the sighs that escaped her over-charged bosom, and nothing could assuage the violence of her grief. She was interrupted in her meditations by hearing & voice behind her repeat her name, and, turning hastily round, her terror and surprise were excessive, when she discovered the Baron de Morton standing and gaging upon her wrth such altered looks, that she could scarcely believe the evidence of her senses. Instead of the savage expressions of revenge with which she had expected he would meet her, she saw him gazing at her with miagied looks of admiration and delight, and his countenance, which was still handsome, was softened into an expression of kindness and gentleness which she had never imagiged it was in his power to assume or experience. Surprised, ineredulousg, yet reviyed by hope, our heroine knelt at the baron’s feet, and with the most supplieating looks, and a voice choked by sobs, implored his pity and. forbearance. De Morton seemed to gaze at her with the deepest interest, and, for a few moments he made no reply, but at length, in a voice of softness, he ejacu- lated :— “6 Rise, fairest maiden, and fear not ;—~1 will not harm you ;—-noe, sweetest, believe me, the sentiments I once entertained towards you, are now eatirely changed, and, if I have acted with apparent severity, it bas only been ebca- sioned by the ardour of the love I have imbibed fer you, and the utter impoe- sibility I felt of existing out of your presence. May, start not fair Angelina, mor turn that look of scorn and indifference upon me; beligve me, I speak the pure sentiments of my soul, and, upon you alone depands my. happiness or misery. I love yeu, Angelina, aye, love you to madness and———’! <¢ My iord,”* exclaimed the astonished maiden, turning from him with a leek of the utmost indignation and aversion, ‘‘ this from you, the only cause of all my misery and the sufferings of my friends; this from he who threatened and employed his myrmidon to attempt my life ;—this from ‘the man who has doomed that poor woman toa herrible and lingering death, merqly because her humanity prompted her to assist me te esteape from that confinemant in which you unjustly then, and now hold me ?—This from the husband of the Baroness de Morton, from him, who, but for the iaterference of Providence, would long ere now, have planged his poniard to my heart P-—Away, and mock "me not, disgust not mine ears with your revolting words 1?’ : The baron stood for a minute or two, apperently astonished and bewildered at her words, and the resolution with which she gave utterance to them, and did not return any answer; at length, once more endeavouring to take her kmand, _ and to press it to his lips, he ejaculated :— “I will admit that my conduct was harsh, that it was cruel, sweet damsel, ‘ but I was urged on to it by some accursed spell, I laboured under a strange, an unhappy delusion, and——” _ he baron here again paused; and loéking in the svivienane o our heroine ' with greater intensity than before, added :— ‘¢ And yet the likeness is so great, so péwerfal, that even tew-— bet, patra | —Iam growing foolish again!—It cannot be. Pardon me; Angelina for this ~ digressions—you have accused me of behaving cruel to you, admit Kt, and ECOMICLOOKS.CO