“Sir William Ashton,” said Ravenswood, “I pray you, and all who hear me, that you will not mistake my purpose.  If this young lady, of her own free will, desires the restoration of this contract, as her letter would seem to imply, there is not a withered leaf which this autumn wind strews on the heath that is more valueless in my eyes.  But I must and will hear the truth from her own mouth; without this satisfaction I will not leave this spot.  Murder me by numbers you possibly may; but I am an armed man—­I am a desperate man, and I will nto die without ample vengeance.  This is my resolution, take it as you may.  I will hear her determination from her own mouth; from her own mouth, alone, and without witnesses, will I hear it.  Now, choose,” he said, drawing his sword with the right hand, and, with the left, by the same motion taking a pistol from his belt and cocking it, but turning the point of one weapon and the muzzle of the other to the ground—­“choose if you will have this hall floated with blood, or if you will grant me the decisive interview with my affianced bride which the laws of God and the country alike entitle me to demand.”

All recoiled at the sound of his voice and the determined action by which it was accompanied; for the ecstasy of real desperation seldom fails to overpower the less energetic passions by which it may be opposed.  The clergyman was the first to speak.  “In the name of God,” he said, “receive an overture of peace from the meanest of His servants.  What this honourable person demands, albeit it is urged with over violence, hath yet in it something of reason.  Let him hear from Miss Lucy’s own lips that she hath dutifully acceded to the will of her parents, and repenteth her of her covenant with him; and when he is assured of this he will depart in peace unto his own dwelling, and cumber us no more.  Alas! the workings of the ancient Adam are strong even in the regenerate; surely we should have long-suffering with those who, being yet in the gall of bitterness and bond of iniquity, are swept forward by the uncontrollable current of worldly passion.  Let then, the Master of Ravenswood have the interview on which he insisteth; it can but be as a passing pang to this honourable maiden, since her faith is now irrevocably pledged to the choice of her parents.  Let it, I say, be this:  it belongeth to my functions to entreat your honours’ compliance with this headling overture.”

“Never!” answered Lady Ashton, whose rage had now overcome her first surprise and terror—­“never shall this man speak in private with my daughter, the affianced bride of another! pass from this room who will, I remain here.  I fear neither his violence nor his weapons, though some,” she said, glancing a look towards Colonel Ashton, “who bear my name appear more moved by them.”

“For God’s sake, madam,” answered the worthy divine, “add not fuel to firebrands.  The Master of Ravenswood cannot, I am sure, object to your presence, the young lady’s state of health being considered, and your maternal duty.  I myself will also tarry; peradventure my grey hairs may turn away wrath.”