Rookwood. A Romance By W. HARRISON AINSWORTH

“My mother was present. You know the restraint she usually had over my father, and how she maintained it. On this occasion she had none. He questioned me as to every particular; probed my secret soul; dragged forth every latent feeling, and then thundered out his own determination that Eleanor never should be bride of mine; nor would he receive, under his roof, her mother, the discountenanced daughter of his father. I endeavoured to remonstrate with him. He was deaf to my entreaties. My mother added sharp and stinging words to my expostulations. ‘I had her consent,’ she said; ‘what more was needed? The lands were entailed. I should at no distant period be their master, and might then please myself.’ This I mention, in order to give you my father’s strange answer.

“‘Have a care, madam,’ replied he, ‘and bridle your tongue; they are entailed, ’tis true, but I need not ask his consent to cut off that entail. Let him dare to disobey me in this particular, and I will so divert the channel of my wealth, that no drop shall reach him. I will—but why threaten?—let him do it, and approve the consequences.’

“On the morrow I renewed my importunities with no better success. We were alone.

“‘Ranulph,’ said he, ‘you waste time in seeking to change my resolution. It is unalterable. I have many motives which influence me; they are inexplicable, but imperative. Eleanor Mowbray never can be yours. Forget her as speedily as may be, and I pledge myself, upon whomsoever else your choice may fix, I will offer no obstacle.’

“‘But why,’ exclaimed I, with vehemence, ‘do you object to one whom you have never beheld? At least, consent to see her.’

“‘Never!’ he replied. ‘The tie is sundered, and cannot be reunited; my father bound me by an oath never to meet in friendship with my sister; I will not break my vow. I will not violate its conditions, even in the second degree. We never can meet again. An idle prophecy which I have heard has said, “that when a Rookwood shall marry a Rookwood the end of the house draweth nigh.” That I regard not. It may have no meaning, or it may have much. To me it imports nothing further than that if you wed Eleanor, every acre I possess shall depart from you. And assure yourself this is no idle threat. I can, and will do it. My curse shall be your sole inheritance.’

“I could not avoid making some reply, representing to him how unjustifiable such a procedure was to me, in a case where the happiness of my life was at stake; and how inconsistent it was with the charitable precepts of our faith, to allow feelings of resentment to influence his conduct. My remonstrances, as in the preceding meeting, were ineffectual. The more I spoke, the more intemperate he grew. I therefore desisted. But not before he had ordered me to quit the house. I did not leave the neighbourhood, but saw him again on the same evening.

“Our last interview took place in the garden. I then told him that I had determined to go abroad for two years, at the expiration of which period I proposed returning to England; trusting that his resolution might then be changed, and that he would listen to my request, for the fulfilment of which I could never cease to hope. Time, I hoped, might befriend me. He approved of my plan of travelling, requesting me not to see Eleanor before I set out; adding, in a melancholy tone—’We may never meet again, Ranulph, in this life; in that case, farewell for ever. Indulge no vain hopes. Eleanor never can be yours, but upon one condition, and to that you would never consent!’—’Propose it!’ I cried; ‘there is no condition I could not accede to.’—’Rash boy!’ he replied; ‘you know not what you say; that pledge you would never fulfil, were I to propose it to you; but no—should I survive till you return, you shall learn it then—and now, farewell’—’Speak now, I beseech you!’ I exclaimed; ‘anything, everything—what you will!’—’Say no more,’ replied he, walking towards the house; ‘when you return we will renew this subject; farewell—perhaps for ever.’ His words were prophetic—that parting was for ever. I remained in the garden till nightfall. I saw my mother, but he came not again. I quitted England without beholding Eleanor.”