Oh, Eli, pray, pray spare me this, cried Mrs Mallow, supplicatingly.
No, he said, I have been silent too long I have given way too much. It is time I spoke out with no uncertain sound. Cyril, you hate this man because he is your rival in the affections of a good, true girl. Your anger has taught me so far, and I rejoice thereat. Your suit has been without success. You teach me, too, that you would stop at nothing, even blackening your rivals character, to gain your ends; but this must not be. I look upon Sage Portlock as in my charge, and I tell you, once and for all, that you must stop this disgraceful pursuit. I say that it shall not go on.
And how will you stop it, sir? cried Cyril, springing to his feet, while the mother lay back with clasped hands.
I dont know yet, but stop it I will, cried Mr Mallow. You shall disgrace your mother and sisters no longer insult Miss Portlock no more by your pursuit.
Insult her?
Yes, sir, insult her. She is too good and pure-hearted a girl for her affections to be tampered with by such a heartless fellow as you.
Eli, Eli, moaned Mrs Mallow, but her cry was unnoticed by the angry men.
Tampered with! Heartless! Bah! You do not know what you are saying.
I know, my son, that the time has come for me to strike. You must leave here, and at once. Sage Portlock is not for you. If you do not know your position in life and your duty to your class, you must be taught.
Then hear me now, cried the young man, defiantly. Luke Ross is no rival of mine, for he has never won Sage Portlocks heart. That belongs to me; and as to duty, caste, and the like, let them go to the devil. Have her I will, in spite of you all, and
Silence, sir! cried the Rector, beside himself with passion the rage kept down for years; and he caught his son by the throat. Man grown no, you are a boy a child, whom I ought to soundly thrash for your disobedience and shame. Son? you are no son of mine.
Loose me, father, cried the young man. I will not bear this. Loose me, I tell you.
Father and son had forgotten themselves, and in those brief moments of their struggle a strange blindness had come over them. They swayed to and fro, a little table covered with china was overset with a crash, and, at last, getting one hand free, Cyril clenched his fist and struck out fiercely, just as a wild and piercing scream rang through the room.
Part 1, Chapter XXV. Where Cyril Went
He rose again on the instant to obtain water and the pungent salts which were close at hand, striving with all the skill born of so many years attendance in a sick room to restore the stricken woman to her senses.
Frank had already left the house, but the cry brought Julia and Cynthia into the room.
Oh, mamma, mamma! wailed Julia, and she too busied herself in trying to revive the stricken woman.
Not so Cynthia, who took in the situation at a glance, and burst into a passion of sobs, which she checked directly, and with flushed face and flashing eyes she crossed to her brother.
This is your doing, she cried; you will kill mamma before youve done; and Harry might have been here and heard all this. Cyril, I hate you; youre as wicked as Frank; and to her brothers utter astonishment she struck him sharply in the face.
Little fool! he growled fiercely, as he caught her by the wrist, but only to fling her off with a contemptuous laugh. He made no motion to help, but stood with frowning brow and bitter vindictive eye watching his parents alternately; but though he went to and fro many times, and passed close to his son, the Rector never once
countenance betokened aught but the tenderest sympathy and love for her he was leaving behind, as, once more going to the door, the Rector passed through, and descended to his study, leaving Mrs Mallow weeping in her daughters arms.
Here he shut himself in for a few minutes, and rapidly paced the floor, holding his hands the while to his rugged brow.
It is too much it is too much! he groaned, panting with the great emotion to which his soul was prey. If it was not for my girls! If it was not for my girls!
Then he threw himself into his chair, and sat leaning forward with his fingers seeming to be driven into the soft padding of the arms, which he clutched with fierce vehemence.
But by degrees the gust of passion passed over, leaving him calm and cool as, once more rising, he smoothed his countenance, and went out of the room in search of Cyril.
He was not in the dining-room, nor yet in the little room where he was in the habit of sitting to read and smoke, while the state of the garden was not such as to induce him to wander there.
The Rector went up softly to his sons room, but without finding him; and at last he went into the dining-room and rang the bell.
Where is Mr Cyril? the Rector asked.
He went out about half-an-hour ago, sir.
With Mr Frank?
No, sir; Mr Frank went out before that.
Did he say what time he would be back?
No, sir; but Williams came in just now, sir, with Lord Artingales mare for Miss Cynthia.