Angelina: Or, The Mystery of St. Mark's Abbey — page 173: what you’re looking at

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

160 | ANGELINA! O8, afon which he had avowed was deserving of that title? This was @ problem which she was quite at a loss to solve; and after racking her brain for some time to no purpose, she gave up the attempt. Her heart revolted from the bare idea of the odious sentiments which De Morton had expressed, and when she reflected how securely she was in his power, she gave herself up for lost, and wrung her hands in despair. In fact, the last words the baron had given utterance to, convinced her that he was determined to gain his siafal desires by some means, and of bis relenting she had nothing to hope. Such a fate would be even more horrible than a violent death. For more than an hour after the baron had quitted her, Angelina remained completely absorbed in the melancholy cogitations which the interview had given rise to, and did not offer to move from the seat in which she had placed herself prior to his departure from the room. Oh, how severe would be the misery, the agony of her friends, even greater than that which they new en- dured, did they but know the danger in which she was actually placed? What, too, was the fate of her lover, the unfortanate Hugh Clifford? Had he fallen by the hands of the ruffians, or had he been brought to the Tower and placed in confinement in those horrible dungeons, of which she hed seen so dreadful a sample, in order that his tortures might be rendered still more ex- quisite? The bare idea of this caused her more poignant ageny than any- thing else ; for after what she had witnessed of the barbarous manner in which the wretched Bridget had been treated, she could not help thinking the Baren de Morton and his heartless creatures capable of any atrocity. With this thought, too, was recalled to her memory the appalling sufferings which Bridget was enduring through the assistance she had rendered her, and she could not but feel herself truly wretched. Yet a ray of hope darted across her mind, from what the baron had said, that she weuld be released from her confinement, and the miseries to which she had been subjected, if death had not already performed that task. He surely would no longer keep the ua- fortunate woman in that dreadfal state of incarceration, after what she had said to him.—No, he could not expect to make any other impression on her (Angelina’s) mind, but the most inexpressible horror, by such conduct ; and yet his chief object now, apparently, was to make an impression upon her heart, notwithstanding that the very idea of such a thing was preposterous. Ok, no, Bridget would be liberated, and by proper care and attention she might be restored to the same state of health and strength she enjoyed previous to the uelties that had lately been inflicted upon her. As this thought gained firmer possession of her mind, Angelina became more composed, and resolved to encounter any danger with becoming fortitude, and to lose her life rather than yield to the importunities of her persecutor. At this moment her eyes rested upen the portrait, which had already so deeply interested her, and she could almost imagine that it smiled upon her and appeared to encourage her to hope. 8o completely infatuated was she by this imagination, that it was several minutes before she could remove to gaze from the portrait, and while she looked, a strange feeling came over ber, and she felt tranquillized and resigned to her fate, whatever it might be. That day passed away without anything particular occurring to our heroine. The old: woman who had brought her refreshments in the morning, came once or twice jato the room; buat although Angelina put several questions to her, ECOMRDIC OOOKS: (CO)