At a Girl's Mercy, or, The Fortunes of War — page 187: what you’re looking at

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

176 } AT A GIRLS MERCY. yours. You scorn me because I will not lay my life open to the bullet and the bayonet. You shall see, my pretty maid, that there are other causes to fight for, and other victories to win. You shall feel that Howard Blake, scorn him as you will, with your proud head raised as though you of the Hall were the only blue bloods in the country—you shall feel that those whom you scorn can lower your proud head, and your father’s, to the dust. I shall stand back for nothing now. I might have spared you some of the pain I can inflict, but now I shall stop at nothing that will win you. You shall acknowl- edge that Howard Blake has the winning power in spite of all the pride of the Courtlands of the Hall.”’ He ground his teeth, and his eyes were like a snake’s in their fury and cunning. He was capable of almost anything to carry out his scheme, His plans were forming even then, disconcerted as he had been. at Nan’s departure, and he would plant them for the reaping of his gain ere many months should pass. Let the war go on, as he said, he would. carry his victory single handed and with no weap- ons but his fertile brain and his hope of revenge. And he could be cruel to the utmost when he would win, if nothing else would bring the victory. He would prove to this girl that his threats were not the vain utterances of an angry lover. He would bring her to humbly acknowledge his power, and then his vengeance would be complete. Then he would sue for her hand, and not sue in vain. Then she would answer with more grace than she had the other day at his words of wooing. He was capable of almost anything to win her, but he would win. “‘T have more than one wire to pull,”” he muttered, his pale face darkening with triumph. “J have more than one hold upon you and your father, Miss Nan, and if one fails, there are still the others. I have no mercy for you now. I might have had, for you were sweet and dainty as: my wife should be, and you can be gracious if you choose. _ But you chose to scorn me for your dead lover, ha! . - ha! and you shall now feel my scorn that has no mercy, When I have brought your proud head low, — ots me