Angelina: Or, The Mystery of St. Mark's Abbey — page 235: what you’re looking at

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

222 ANGELINA3$ OR, ‘* Oh, my love, my adored Amabel,” sighed forth the deeply afficted Sir Kustace, half choaked with sobs. ‘ Why talk in this manner ?. What should to deeply agoaize you? Why should you give way to such wild, such inexplicable expressions? Nay, nay, my love, your brain is disordered, yor know not what you say, you" , : “* Eustace,” interrupted Lady Arlingham, in tones of the deepest solemnity, ‘‘ I feel that there are bat a few minutes intervening between me and Eternity ! I am certain that ere long I shall be in the dread presente of my Almighty Judge, and it is my most earnest wish, ere I go before that awful tribunal, to make all the earthly atonement in my pewer, by confessing to you my guilt. Eustace, I am an adultress, I have been false to those vows I plighted with you at the connubial altar !"’ Sir Eustace turned deadly pale; he gazed upon the features of his expiring wife with an expression of the most unutterable horror, and was unable to give utterance to a single word. “Yes, I see how it is, I but imagined right,” gasped forth Lady Amabel, “‘ but what else could I expect? What else could I hope? What deserve ? Nay, my husband, if I dare now venture to eall you by that name, think not that I know not what I am uttering. Alas?! would that it were untrae; Eustace,—Sir Vincent Rosenford.—” — - : ) Sir Eustace started at the mention of that detested name, his lips quivered, a palsy shook his frame, and it was with diffieukty he could support himself ; he tried to speak, but his tongue claveto the palate of his mouth, and be with distended eye-lids fixed his gaze upon the pale countemance of his wife, and awaited what she would next say with the most breathless and indescribable anguish. , Soe, : “Ab! well may you shudder with horror,” ejaculated Lady Arlingham, “Swell may you look at me aghast; but now will you hate and eurse my memory; when I tell you that Sir Vincent Rosenford, since he has been your accepted guest, has become the sedacer of the peor, unhappy guilty wretch, who now lies before you.” : : “‘ Horror! horror! great heaven! let me not hear titis dreadfal acknow- ledgment, and be convinced of its truth !” exclaimed Sir Eastace. “But you must hear it, Eustace,” said his wife, “ yes, your guilty wife cannot quit this world without—” ** My Ged !” interrupted Sir Eustace Arlingham, “can this dreadfal tale really be true; and my sister’? , . Lady Arlisgham groaned, and covering her face with the bed clothes fe- mained silent for a few seconds, while her husband clasping his burning temples, paced the réom with hasty and uneven steps, and the deep sobs that ever and amon escaped his heavily surcharged bosom, told too plainly how severely he suffered. At length, however, Lady Amabel once mere looked up, aud _ with more composure in her manner than might have been anticipated, she “* Sir Rustace, I feel my end rapidly approaching, and that my moments are numbered ; let me then employ them in disclosing that, which at the same (ime will, perhaps, be a séurce of everlasting unbapihess to you, I cannot gait this world without disclosing. Before you sought my hand, Sir Vincent Roven- ford had gained fall. possession of my heart. When my father bade me fovk dpon cComicHooks 1(GO) >