Summary

William Westall Mr. Fortescue: An Andean Romance

Stay with us, Monsieur Nigel, and marry Angela! If you search the world through you could find no sweeter wife.”
My hesitation vanished like the morning mist before the rising sun.
“If Angela will be my wife,” I said, “I will be your successor.”
“It is the answer I expected, Monsieur Nigel. I am content to let Angela be the arbiter of your fate and the fate of Quipai. She will be here presently. Put the question yourself. She knows nothing of this; but I have watched you both, and though my eyes are growing dim I am not blind.”
And with that the abbé left me to my thoughts.
Source: Gutenberg

William Westall Mr. Fortescue: An Andean Romance

Killing is not always murder. If it were, we should consign our conquerors to everlasting infamy, instead of crowning them with laurels and erecting statues to their memory. I am no murderer, Mr. Bacon. At the same time I do not cherish illusions. Unpremeditated murder is by no means the worst of crimes. Taking a life is only anticipating the inevitable; and of all murderers, Nature is the greatest and the cruellest. I have—if I could only tell you—make you see what I have seen—Even now, O God! though half a century has run its course—”
Here Mr. Fortescue’s voice failed him
Source: Gutenberg

William Westall Mr. Fortescue: An Andean Romance

In that hour Quipai was destroyed and its people perished.
As the blood-red sun sank into the bosom of the broad Pacific, a great cloud of smoke and steam, mingled with stones and ashes, was puffed out of the crater and a stream of fiery lava, bursting from the breach in the side of the mountain, followed in the wake of the water.
The uproar was terrific; explosion succeeded explosion; great stones hurled through the air and fell back into the crater with a din like discharges of musketry, and whenever there came a lull we could hear the hissing of the water as it met the lava.
Source: Gutenberg

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