Angelina: Or, The Mystery of St. Mark's Abbey — page 180: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERY OF &T. MARK’S ABBEY. 167 “Baron de Merton, you cannot speak the troth.—Hugh Clifford cannot ever have been guilty of crimes that would render him liable to the punishment of death, It is only done to harrow up my feelings, and to exact from me a promise which virtue and every law, human and divine, forbide, But, surely, were it even true, cruel as you are, you could never be guilty of so barbarous a deed Pf" “‘T repeat that I have spoken the truth,’’ said De Morton, “ bul,” he added, in a softened tone, ‘‘ why will you, sweet maiden, by your scorn and obsti- nacy, force me to behave in a manner from which my nature revolts? Why will you not endeavour to banish from your bosom the batred and resentment you bear towards me, and make’ me your devoted slave, studious to promote your happiness, and anxious to banish from your memory ali recollection of the past. Nay, do not frown so disdainfully upon me, but let this kiss end at once all ill feeling, and be the prelude (to fature joys!” _ As the baron spoke, he threw his arms around the waist of Aogelina, and was ahout to put his words into execution, when, at that moment, he was arrested in his purpose, by a sound resembling a deep sigh or a hollow gust of wind, which seemed to proceed from the adjoiniog apartment, the door of which was standing wide open. The baron released our heroine, who trembled with terror, and, looking towards the spot from whence the sound appeared te issue, his eyes became fixed upon the portrait which had so particularly engaged the attention of Angelina, and which, at that moment, appeared to his terrified imagination to move, and the bosom to heave. His face became ghastly pale in an instant, his lips quivered, and turning away from the contemplation of the portrait, with a shudder of horrer, he said, as he hastily quitted the room,— ‘I will see you again—anon, Angelina, for the present, farewell, and remember my words.” As he spoke, he cast one more glaoce of terror towards the portrait, and left the apartment, while Angelina stvuod fora few minutes in a state of com- plete stepefaction, and could neither move nor utter the least exclamation. When she did somewhat recover, the horro: of her feelings was iade- scribable. The determined persecution of the baron—the insults by which her ears had been contaminated—the confinement uf Hugh Cliffurd, and the danger in which the baron had asserted he was placed—‘*a price set upon his life’? —all—all rushed upon her memory at once, and nearly over- whelmed her; but, at length, sinking upon a chair, she found some relief in a torrent of tears. . When she could bring her mind to reflect more calmly and dispassionately upon her situation, she endeavoured to find out some means by which she could indulge in the hope of escaping from the power of the villain who de- tained her, but alas! there was none, unless it was in the liberation from confinement of Hugh Clifford; but the improbability of that was too deeply impressed upon ber mind, for ber to give it any encouragement; for it was not likely that the baron would ever release him, (although he hau promised so to do, if she would accede to his wishes,) as he would, of course, feel cer- ‘tain that Clifford would immediately avail himself of sach an opportunity te make ber situation known to her friends, and to adopt some scheme to enforce her release from incarceration, When she thought of thim and GOMMGIOO 1(GO)