"Pardon! pardon!"

"Thou mayest well sue for pardon, false jade; but to win it is
another matter. Say, vile girl, whom I blush to call my
daughter--say how oft hast thou thus gone forth to meet thy lover?"

"Father--father, revile me not thus!" cried the girl, beside
herself with agitation, fearful of betraying Cuthbert's near
presence to the Gate House, lest the angry man should contrive to
do him some injury or gain some hold upon him, yet terrified at the
accusations levelled at her own head, which seemed to bear some
show of reason. "Father, have pity; drive me not to despair, as
thou didst drive my brother. I am so lonely and so miserable. Pity
me! pardon me!"

"Answer my question, base girl. How oft hast thou done this deed
before tonight?"

"Never before, my father, never before! Ah, do not be too hard upon
me! I have done no wrong--I swear it!"

"Keep thy false oaths for thy false lover!" cried the angry man; "I
will have none of them. Thou hast passed me thy word once, and I
believed thee, and thou hast played me false. I will never believe
thee again--never, never! Thou hast made thy bed, and thou shalt
lie upon it."

And with that the angry man flung the kneeling girl from him with
such violence that she fell against the wall, and striking her head
sharply, sank stunned and unconscious at his feet.