Mordant

“ She is afraid of you because she does not know you. You regard her as a child. You are never on a level with her. You are not enough her friend. Therefore you do not understand her. Therefore she does not know you. Therefore she is—afraid."
His eyes darted up to Mordaunt's grave face for an instant, and returned to the cigarette.
There followed a silence of some duration. At last very quietly Mordaunt rose, went to the mantelpiece, helped himself to a cigarette, and began to search for matches.
Bertrand sprang up to proffer one of his own. ”

“ And so intense is the fancy that when we turn, and all is void, from that very void we could shape a spectre, as fearful as the image our terror had foredrawn. Somewhat such feeling had Mordaunt now, as his steps sounded hollow and echoless on the stairs, and the stars filled the air around him with their shadowy and solemn presence. Breaking by a violent effort from a spell of which he felt that a frame somewhat overtasked of late was the real enchanter, he turned once more into the room which he had left to visit Isabel. ”

“ Humanity prompted Mordaunt to follow, entreat them not to be alarmed, and to allow him to assist them: his appearance, so totally unexpected (for the shadow of the ruin under which he stood, and the deep gloom of the atmosphere, had prevented their seeing him) , seemed to startle them almost as much as the storm, which one of the half-breathless girls said had surprized them still higher on the mountain than he had been. ”

“ He was just at that age when one with strong features and robust frame is at the worst in point of appearance—the sinewy proportions not yet sufficiently fleshed, and seeming inharmonious and undeveloped; precisely in proportion, perhaps, to the symmetry towards which they insensibly mature: the contour of the face sharpened from the roundness of boyhood, and losing its bloom without yet acquiring that relief and shadow which make the expression and dignity of the masculine countenance. Thus accoutred, thus gaunt, and uncouth, stood Morton. ”

“ In his travels Mordaunt encountered an Englishman whose name I will not yet mention: a person of great reputed wealth; a merchant, yet a man of pleasure; a voluptuary in life, yet a saint in reputation; or, to abstain from the antithetical analysis of a character which will not be corporeally presented to the reader till our tale is considerably advanced, one who drew from nature a singular combination of shrewd but false conclusions, and a peculiar philosophy, destined hereafter to contrast the colours and prove the practical utility of that which was espoused by Mordaunt. ”

“ It was a woman's scream of agony, and as it burst forth, the maddened shout of the multitude was hushed. It struck upon the ear of George Mordington in the midst of his madness and degradation—it entered his heart. It was the cry of his betrothed Marion. He struck his hand upon his brow, and fell back in the cart as if an arrow had entered his breast. Her voice had startled him, as from a trance, into a consciousness of his shame and folly.
"He is dead!" cried the crowd—for he fell as if dead, and in a state of unconsciousness he was conveyed to his mother's house. ”

“ Morton was shocked.
“Count—come, man, pull yourself together; say something. I have agreed.”
A wan smile, like sunshine, stole over the drawn features of the helpless man.
“I must apologize for my rudeness,” he whispered more than spoke. “I shall be better in a moment.” He stretched out a trembling hand for the goblet of water, but Morton had reached it before him, and the old man drank the refreshing liquid thirstily.
The cool drink revived him. Some color returned into the blanched cheeks and the eyes regained somewhat of their normal lustre. He sat up more erect. ”

“ We have said already that when the first impression produced by Mordaunt’s apparent pride and coldness wore away, it required little penetration to discover the benevolence and warmth of his mind. But none ignorant of his original disposition, or the misfortunes of his life, could ever have pierced the depth of his self-sacrificing nature, or measured the height of his lofty and devoted virtue. Many men may perhaps be found who will give up to duty a cherished wish or even a darling vice ”

“ SIR F. Is that all?
ARTH. All! It strikes me as being quite enough. No, it isn’t all—it’s only half, for Myrtle—
SIR F. (cutting him short) . Never mind Myrtle; I know all about her. She thinks you a bit of a milksop—s—so do I; that you’ve no energy—not an atom! no will of your own—never had! and that in order to reinstate yourself in her good opinion you must do something desperate! So you shall! Now what do you mean to do?
ARTH. Show a proper spirit, and—run away!
SIR F. Run away! Certainly not—fling yourself into my arms and I’ll pull you through! So cheer up! ”

“ Lord Morton is an upright man and a just; but for years he hath tried in vain to curb the wildness of young Sir Boris. Drink and dice have been the young lord’s ruin as of many a better man before. Only a fortnight since, Lord Morton forbade him, on pain of his worst displeasure, to bring any dice, those tools of the Devil, into Morton Hall. More than that, he drove from the very door two of the young bloods from Shrewsbury who had been the young lord’s boon companions in drinking and gaming. ”

“ A loud laugh was raised by the old witch, and he pursued her. Darkness fell over the scene, and once more he was near to the dying embers.
“Go home!” exclaimed the hag,—“go home, and die there along with your dead wife and child! It is long past midnight. It is, therefore, meet time that you should go to sleep with them. Home—fool!”
Her words drove Morden almost to madness. He climbed up to the entrance, and as he left the cave, he heard the laugh of the two witches. He rushed along the path. He saw not the lurid lights that flashed around him, from the dark abode which he had left. ”

“ The bandit laughed again in a weird display of mirth. Something had changed the man, re-made him entirely, Mortenson thought. He was not the young, dashing desperado that had appeared in the laboratory ten days previously and walked away with the Fifth Dimensional apparatus! This man had a stubble of gray beard on his chin and his clothes were tattered and torn. And he seemed like a man who had gone through hell and left his soul with the devil's imps! ”

“ She minds me, Morton. I wouldn't—couldn't—wake her. Morton, Morton, she's yours as much as mine. That's God's law, no matter how much man's law may have let you shirk your responsibility. Don't hurt your own flesh and blood by coming back to us—now. I remember once when you cut your hand it made you ill. Blood! Blood is warm. Red. Sacred stuff. She's your blood, Morton. You let us alone when we needed you. Leave us alone, now that we don't!"
"But you do, Hattie girl. That's just it. You're running things a woman's way. ”

“ Then, at last, with a movement curiously impulsive, Trevor Mordaunt freed himself from the spell. He laid his hand once more upon his secretary's shoulder.
"Bertrand!" he said, and in his voice interrogation, incredulity, even entreaty, were oddly mingled. "You!"
The Frenchman shivered, and came out of his lethargy. He threw a single glance upwards, then suddenly bowed his head on his hands. But still he spoke no word.
Mordaunt's hand fell from him. He stood a moment, then turned and walked away. "So that was the reason!" he said. ”

“ Nobody will believe you."
"But don't you think I'm telling the truth?"
"No. I know you are not. Morton told me that you were obsessed by the belief that you've been the victim of some very cunning plot, and that you were drugged," said the captain. "Now, just forget all about it, and enjoy your trip!" he added good-humouredly.
"Ah! This person, Morton, has told you, has he? He told you so as to discredit me when I explained to you the truth," cried Durrant. "But what I have told you are the true facts." ”

“ Modred’s face was ghastly and his eyes were awakened to an expression that I had never thought them capable of.
“You’ve been in there?” I said.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“More fool you. If you like to tempt the devil you should have the brass to outface him. Why, you’ve got it!” I cried, for he suddenly let fall from his trembling hand a little round glittering object, whose nature I could not determine in the stormy twilight.
He had it in his clutch again in a moment, though I pounced for it, and then he backed through the open doorway. ”

“ Had I any reason to suppose, in short, that my share in Modred’s death was known to or guessed at by my father, Jason or Zyp? On that pivot turned the whole prospect of my future; for as to myself, were the secret to remain mine alone, I yet felt that I could make out life with a tolerable degree of resignation in the certain knowledge that Modred had forgiven me before he died, for a momentary mad impulse, the provocation to which had been so bitter—the reaction from which had been so immediate and so equally impulsive. ”

“ Mortenson studied the man meditatively, his brain working rapidly. So the fellow wanted his services, eh? Why, when he could have the apparatus duplicated by some corrupt scientist? Or could anyone duplicate them at all, beyond himself? Mortenson's eyes narrowed as he grasped the full significance of the man's bold proposition.
The apparatus could not be duplicated by anyone but himself! That was why the bandit was so intent upon enlisting his aid to set up a domain of terror in the Fifth Dimension, a domain that would prey unmercifully upon the world in which he now stood. ”

“ But still, my dear Mr. Morton, blood will tell. And a nobleman is the product of many generations of thought, virtue and manliness.”
Morton nodded thoughtfully as he lighted a cigar. Both remained silent. From the shore came the sounds of murmuring crowds, the splashing of oars, the shrill tones of muleteers and the hoarse laughter of negroes. Then followed the clanking of chains, the straining of ropes, a few short commands from the bridge and the anchors had dropped. ”

“ Ash. It were never held out to clinch a hard bargain, nor will it turn a good lad out into the wide wicked world, because he be poorish a bit. I be zorry you be offended, zur, quite—but come what wool, I'll never hit thic hand against here, but when I be zure that zumeit at inside will jump against it with pleasure. [Bowing.] I do hope you'll repent of all your zins—I do, indeed, zur; and if you shou'd, I'll come and zee you again as friendly as ever—I wool, indeed, zur.
Sir Philip. Your repentance will come too late. ”

“ I love looking at the river on a night like this"
Whoever inquires into human circumstances will be struck to find how invariably a latent current of fatality appears to pervade them. It is the turn of the atom in the scale which makes our safety or our peril, our glory or our shame, raises us to the throne or sinks us to the grave. A secret voice at Mordaunt's heart prompted him to dissent from this proposal, trifling as it seemed and welcome as it was to his present and peculiar mood: he resisted the voice,—the moment passed away, and the last seal was set upon his doom ”

“ Morton looked at Duane with a curiously amused smile, then snapped his big jaw as if to shut in impulsive words.
“Look here, Morton. It stands to reason, no matter how strong these rustlers are, how hidden their work, however involved with supposedly honest men—they CAN'T last.” ”

“ SIR F. Grace no longer. She has deserted me, and for young Vallance! (falling into chair and burying his face in his hands) .
Here LADY F. appears at C., listening.
SIR F. (peeping out at the corner of his handkerchief, and seeing her. Aside) . She’s there! (Aloud.) Yes, Myrtle, I’m a wretched, abandoned man!
MYRT. You can’t be serious?
SIR F. It’s too true!
MYRT. What—what do you intend doing?
SIR F. I did think of shooting the young man!—but it’ll be a far greater punishment to let him live! Think what the poor, unhappy youth will have to suffer from Grace’s “little bits of temper!” ”

“ Oh, my brother! we soon shall meet again—And let me hope, that, stripped of those passions which make men devils, I may receive the heavenly balm of thy forgiveness, as I, from my inmost soul, do pardon thee.
[Morrington becomes convulsed with agony, and falls into Gerald's arms.]
Ah! what means that agony? He faints! give him air!
[They throw open his cloak and hat.]
[Starts.] Angels of mercy! my brother! 'tis he! he lives! Henry, support your father!
Henry. [Running to Morrington.] Ah, my father! he revives!
Sir Philip. Hush! ”

“ Morton's glance, as if that glance could read his soul. But Mr. Morton had never felt so warmly towards Gray as he did at that moment. He was a better fellow than he had thought him, he said to himself, to feel Harding's disappearance so keenly.
"Look here, my lad," he said kindly, "you go into the house and ask Mrs. Morton to give you something to eat. You're just tired out, you know, and won't be fit for anything till you've had a rest. Oh, you shall go with us," he added as he saw Gray's hesitating look. "But we can't start for another hour. I must send over to Billoora for a man or two. ”

“ Philip Mordaunt, cousin-german to the celebrated earl of Peterborough—so well known in all the European courts, and who boasted of having seen more postillions and kings than any other man—was a young man of twenty-seven, handsome, well made, rich, of noble blood, with the highest pretensions, and, which was more than all, adored by his mistress, yet Mordaunt was seized with a disgust for life. ”