Pelham — Volume 07 by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton
page 28 of 78 (35%)
page 28 of 78 (35%)
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never rose from it again; but on that bed of death, the words, as well as
the cause, of her former insanity, were explained--the mystery was unravelled. "It was a still and breathless night. The moon, which was at its decrease, came through the half-closed shutters, and beneath its solemn and eternal light, she yielded to my entreaties, and revealed all. The man--my friend--Tyrrell--had polluted her ear with his addresses, and when forbidden the house, had bribed the woman I had left with her, to convey his letters--she was discharged--but Tyrrell was no ordinary villain; he entered the house one evening, when no one but Gertrude was there--Come near me, Pelham--nearer--bend down your ear--he used force, violence! That night Gertrude's senses deserted her--you know the rest. "The moment that I gathered, from Gertrude's broken sentences, their meaning, that moment the demon entered into my soul. All human feelings seemed to fly from my heart; it shrunk into one burning, and thirsty, and fiery want--that was for revenge. I would have sprung from the bedside, but Gertrude's hand clung to me, and detained me; the damp, chill grasp, grew colder and colder--it ceased--the hand fell--I turned--one slight, but awful shudder, went over that face, made yet more wan, by the light of the waning and ghastly moon--one convulsion shook the limbs--one murmur passed the falling and hueless lips. I cannot tell you the rest-- you know--you can guess it. "That day week we buried her in the lonely churchyard--where she had, in her lucid moments, wished to lie--by the side of her mother." |
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