The Evil Genius: A Domestic Story — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

112 THE EVIL GENIUS. joined together, let no man put asunder. Is there nothing to terrify me in setting that solemn command at defiance? I do it —oh, I do it, in consenting to the divorce! I renounce the vows which I bound myself to respect in the presence of God; I pro- fane the remembrance of eight happy years, hallowed by true love. Ah, you needn’t remind me of what my husband has done. I don’t forget how cruelly he has wronged me; I don’t forget that his own act has cast me from him. But whose act destroys our marriage? Mine! mine! Forgive me, mamma; forgive me, my kind friend—the horror that I have of myself forces its way to my lips. No more of it! My childis my one treasure left. What must I do next? What must I sign ! What must I sacrifice? Tell me—and it shall be done. Isub- mit! Isubmit!” careteenrd and mercifully Mr. Sarrazin answered that sad appeal. PAT that his knowledge, experience, and resolution could sug- gest he addressed to Mrs. Presty. Mrs. Linley could listen or not listen, as her own wishes inclined. In the one case or in the other her interests would be equally well served. The law- yer kissed her hand. ‘‘ Rest, and recover,” he whispered. And then he turned to her mother, and became a man of business once more. ‘‘ The first thing I shall do, ma’am, is to telegraph to my agent in Edinburgh. He will arrange for the speediest possible hear- ing of our case in the Court of Session. Make your mind easy so far.” Mrs. Presty’s mind was, by this time, equally inaccessible to information and advice. ‘‘I want to know what is to be done with those two men who are watching the gate,” was all she said in the way of reply. Mrs. Linley raised her head in alarm. ‘‘'T wo!” she exclaimed, and looked at Mr. Sarrazin. ‘* You only spoke of one last night.” ‘* And I add another this morning. Rest your poor head, Mrs. Linley; I know how it aches: I know how it burns.” He still persisted in speaking to Mrs. Presty. ‘‘ One of those two men will follow me to the station, and see me off on my way to Lon- don. The other will look after you, or your daughter, or the maid, or any other person who may try to get away into hiding with Kitty. And they are both keeping close to the gate, in the fear of losing sight of us in the fog.” ‘*T wish we lived in the Middle Ages,” said Mrs. Presty. ‘‘ What would be the use of that, ma’am ?” ‘“Good heavens, Mr. Sarrazin, don’t you see? In those grand old days you would have taken a dagger, and the gardener would have taken a dagger, and you would have stolen out, and stabbed those two villains as a matter of course. And this is the age of pricing The vilest rogue in existence is a sacred person whose ife we are bound to respect. Ah, what good that national hero would have done who put his barrels of gunpowder in the right place on the fifth of November? I have always said it, and J stick to it, Guy Fawkes was a great statesman.” Gomichbooks (©)