I stand before you in the attitude of a suppliant--shall I kneel?'
His eyes were fixed on me with the light of despair, his knotted hands
clasped, his whole figure bowed toward me. I was inexpressibly shocked and
pained.
'Oh, uncle! uncle!' I cried, and from very excitement I burst into tears.
I saw that his eyes were fixed on me with a dismal scrutiny. I think he
divined the nature of my agitation; but he determined, notwithstanding, to
press me while my helpless agitation continued.
'You see my suspense--you see my miserable and frightful suspense. You are
kind, Maud; you love your father's memory; your pity your father's brother;
you would not say no, and place a pistol at his head?'
'Oh! I must--I must--I _must_ say no. Oh! spare me, uncle, for Heaven's
sake. Don't question me--don't press me. I could not--I _could_ not do what
you ask.'
'I yield, Maud--I yield, my dear. I will _not_ press you; you shall have
time, your _own_ time, to think. I will accept no answer now--no, _none_,
Maud.'
He said this, raising his thin hand to silence me.
'There, Maud, enough. I have spoken, as I always do to you, frankly,
perhaps too frankly; but agony and despair will speak out, and plead, even
with the most obdurate and cruel.
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