"
"Himself, and all that bear his name, are accused to me," returned
Helen; "his love is my abomination, his hatred my dread. Pity me, kind
creature; and if you have a daughter whose honor is dear to your
prayers, think you see her in me, and have compassion on me. My life
is in your hands; for I swear before the throne of Almighty Purity,
that Soulis shall see me die rather than dishonored!"
"Poor young soul!" cried the woman, looking at her frantic gestures
with commiseration; "I would pity you if I durst; but I repeat, my
life, and my husband's, and my children, who are now near Hermitage,
would all be sacrificed to the rage of Lord Soulis. You must be
content to submit to his will." Helen closed her hands over her face
in mute despair, and the woman went on: "And as for the matter of your
making such lamentations about your father, if he be as little your
friend as your mother is you have not much cause to grieve on that
score."
Helen started. "My mother! what of her? Speak! tell me! It is indeed
her signet that betrayed me into these horrors. She cannot have
consented! Oh, no! some villians-speak! tell me what you would say of
Lady Mar?"
Regardless of the terrible emotion which now shook the frame of her
auditor, the woman coolly replied, she had heard from her husband, who
was the confidential servant of Lord Soulis, that it was to Lady mar he
owed the knowledge of Helen being at Bothwell.
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