And you must come, adding to my torture, and striving to
tear from me that for which I bartered conscience, peace, soul, everything
that would make life desirable. If there is mercy in you, leave me with
what I give you, and come back no more. Life has so little to offer, that
rather than bear this continued torment and apprehension I daily suffer, I
will cut my throat, and then _your_ game is over."
Lizzie Stevens stood rooted to the spot whilst her father made the
confession that was wrung from him by the agony of the moment.
"Well, well!" said McCloskey, somewhat startled and alarmed at Stevens's
threat of self-destruction--"well, I'll come down a thousand--make it
four."
"That I'll do," answered the old man, tremblingly; and reaching over, he
drew towards him the cheque-book. After writing the order for the sum, he
was placing it in the hand of McCloskey, when, hearing a faint moan, he
looked towards the door, and saw his daughter fall fainting to the ground.
CHAPTER XXXI.
The Thorn rankles.
We left the quiet town of Sudbury snow-clad and sparkling in all the glory
of a frosty moonlight night; we now return to it, and discover it decked
out in its bravest summer garniture. A short distance above the hill upon
which it is built, the water of the river that glides along its base may be
seen springing over the low dam that obstructs its passage, sparkling,
glistening, dancing in the sunlight, as it falls splashing on the stones
below; and then, as though subdued by the fall and crash, it comes
murmuring on, stopping now and then to whirl and eddy round some rock or
protruding stump, and at last glides gently under the arch of the bridge,
seemingly to pause beneath its shadow and ponder upon its recent tumble
from the heights above.
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