File:The novels of Captain Marryat (1895) (14782643304).jpg

Identifier: novelsofcaptain05marr (find matches)
Title: The novels of Captain Marryat
Year: 1895 (1890s)
Authors: Marryat, Frederick, 1792-1848 Johnson, R. Brimley (Reginald Brimley), 1867-1932
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Publisher: (London Dent)
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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said Tom, squeezing me by the hand, with aquivering lip, by your regard for me, let now the lastscene be got over—let me see Mary, and let this torturedheart once more be permitted a respite. I sent out theDomine. Tom leant against the wall, with his arms folded,in appearance summoning up all his energy for the painfulmeeting. Mary was led in by her father. I expected shewould have swooned away, as before; but, on the contrary,although she was pale as death, and gasping for breath,from intensity of feeling, she walked up to Tom where hewas standing, and sat down on the form close to him. Shelooked anxiously round upon the group, and then said, u Iknow that all I now say is useless, Tom; but still I mustsay it—it is I who, by my folly, have occasioned all thisdistress and misery—it is I who have caused you to suffera—dreadful death—yes, Tom, I am your murderer. Not so, Mary, the folly was my own, replied Tom,taking her hand. You cannot disguise or palliate to me, dearest Tom,
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Jacob Faithful 4i7 replied Mary; my eyes have been opened, too late it istrue, but they have been opened; and although it is kindof you to say so, I feel the horrid conviction of my ownguilt. See what misery I have brought about. There isa father who has sacrificed his youth and his limbs to hiscountry, sobbing in the arms of a mother whose life isbound up with that of her only son. To them, continuedMary, falling down upon her knees, to them I mustkneel for pardon, and I ask it as they hope to be forgiven.Answer me—oh! answer me! can you forgive a wretchlike me? A pause ensued. I went up to old Tom, and kneelingby his side, begged him to answer. Forgive her, poor thing—yes ; who could refuse it, asshe kneels there ? Come, continued he, speaking to hiswife, you must forgive her. Look up, dame, at her, andthink that our poor boy may be asking the same of heavento-morrow at noon. The old woman looked up, and her dimmed eyes caughta sight of Marys imploring and beautiful attitude; it

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