Angelina: Or, The Mystery of St. Mark's Abbey — page 98: what you’re looking at

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

THE MYSTERY OF ST. MARK’S ABE¥Y, | 8& occurring,” answered Rufus ;—* and for my part, I cannat see why you should hesitate. I will myself perform the deed, and suspicion cannot light upon us, No one knows, except ourselves, that she is in our power, and what motive could they imagine that you could have for committing such an outrage ? _ No person would ever know whether she was living or dead, for, after the deed is accomplished, let her body be consigned to the deep, and then—"” The terrified Angelina could not listen to any more that passed, far the agony of her feelings overcame her, and she sunk insensible in a chair. When she again became conscious, it was several moments before she conid follect her thoughts sufficiently to recall the conversation she had overheard or remembers where she was ; but when she did, to what a state of horror was she awakened !-—Jt was evident now that her fate was sealed, and she had no means of evading it-—She looked around her, clasped her burning temples, then wrung her hands in despajr!—Was there no way for her to avoid a fate eo terrihle ?—-Agd myst she, so young — fall beneath the murderer's knife 2— * Oh, merciful God!" she exclaimed in a paroxysm of anguish, “ in Thee alone is my trust t—oh, do not forsake me in the hour of need !’" She again listened at the door—bat all was still. She looked through the key-hole, byt the harou and the wretch Rufus had left the room.—She threw herself upon her knees, and covering her face with her bands, for awhile, is the intensity ef her sufferings, became lost to everything around ber. At length she arose, and returned to her chamber, closing the secret door after her. Such were the multiplicity of racking ideas that crowded upon her imagination, that she conld with difficulty arrange them into anything like order, so as to ruminate on ber perilous situation. One moment she gave ber- eolf up to the most violent despair, and the next @ ray of hope would dart across her mind, when she remembered that the baron seemed to relent. Oh, yes }—~bhs might spare her—he would—he never could take away the life of one so young, who even if she was the daugh er of the person he seemed . to suspect, had never injured him. Villain, as she really thought him to be, ehe could never believe that he could be monster enough to perpetrate such a ¢rime.—Then the circumstance of her seeing the handsome young stranger re- turned to her recoliection.—* He saw me—he bowed to me”—she said ;— be will assist me—I feel assured he will Ob, I will not yet despair !” Again she threw herself upon her knees, and implored the protection of Heaven, but she was suddenly aroused, by hearing a noise frem the apart- ment she had just quitted, and she had only just time to spring upon her feet, when the portrait was clid back, and the Baron de Morton entered, his eyes darting fury, and his cheeks flushed, evidently from the effects of wine. ‘Mercy i mercy |’ screamed Angelina, in tones of the utmost agony, es ehe threw herself on her knees, and jooked up piteously and imploringly in his face ;~-"* Oh, spare me, my lord!” The baron seomed startled by her words, and gazed upen ber earnestly for a moment, without speaking; but then, as a fearful expression overspread his features, he exclaimed in a hoarse voice t= ¢ Ah! ‘twas thus she spoke—those were her last words—her very tones! and as J gaze upon this girl the—but fool that I am, it was not for this I came here.—Gir), answer me s no deceit—remember, your life is in my bands, COL @ OO SS (CO)