"Well, I don't say it; for I know I promised if ever I should marry living man I should marry you. I repeat that promise now, dear Craven," she added, gravely and tenderly.
"Ah, Heaven bless you for those blessed words! But when--_when_ will you make me happy? Oh, if I possess your love, when--_when_ shall I possess your hand?" he pleaded.
And then, as if suddenly ashamed of his own vehemence, he stopped in confusion.
"You have won my love, you petulant boy!" she answered, archly. Then, dropping her voice to its tenderest music, she murmured: "What would you do to win my hand?"
"Anything--anything under the sun!" he answered, wildly, and forgetting all his embarrassment. "Whatever man has done to win woman would I do to win you--more than ever man did to win woman would I do to win you! I would renounce my friends, betray my country, abjure my faith, _lose my soul_ for you!"
"Words, words, words! You talk recklessly! You know you would not do the least one of these dreadful deeds for me," answered Mary Grey, laying her hand on his lips.
I love you, love you; for your love would lose State, station, heaven, mankind's, my own esteem. --BYRON.
He spoke these two words with such a desperate look, in such a desperate tone, that Mary Grey was half frightened; for she saw that he was in that fatal mood in which men have been driven to crime or death for the love of woman.
This was the mood to which she wished to bring him, and in which she wished to keep him until he should have done his work; and yet it half frightened her now.
"Hush--hush!" she murmured. "Be quiet! There are people in the next room. They may hear you. And I am sure they should do so they would take you for a lunatic."
"But--do you believe me? Do you believe that I would defy the universe in your service? Do you believe me? If not, try me!" he aspirated, vehemently.
"I _do_ believe you. And some day I _will_ try you. You have won my love; but he who wins my hand must first prove his love for me in a way that will leave no doubt upon the fact."
"Then I am safe, for I am sure to prove it," he said, with a sigh of intense relief.
She looked at him again, and knew that he spoke as he felt. Yes, for her sake he would "march to death as to a festival."