Wlliam Gilmore Simms
Southward Ho! A Spell of Sunshine >> Chapter XI / The Bride of Hate: Or, The Passage of a Night >> Page 188

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Novel (Romance) | Redfield | 1854
Transcription 188 SOUTHWARI) HO
as possible in respect to it and the lady thereof. He seemed to
be surprised at the avowal of my ignorance on the subject of the
castle, and surprised me even more by expressing leis wonder at
the fact ; concluding by assuring me that I was born ii it�at
least he had been told so. His mention of my place of birth
necessarily provoked an eager renewal of my old inquiri., but
to these I obtained no satisfactory answers. Enough, however,
was shown me by what he said, and still more by what he
looked, that he knew much more than be was willing, or per-
mitted, to reveal. His reserve increased the mystery ; for if
any of my acquaintance had ever convinced me of their unequiv-
ocal regard, it was my old friend Bruno. That be should know,
yet withhold, the secret, the desire for which was making my
cheek paler every day, and filling my heart with the gloom that
seldom afflicts the young, argued, to my understanding, a pain-
ful history, which, perhaps, when heard, I should wish for ever
buried in oblivion. When I inquired after my benefactress, as
I had frequently done before, his brow became clouded, and it
was only at such moments that he seemed to part easily with
that gayety of manner which had striven to cheer our tedious
journey. Stern glances shot from beneath his bushy gray eye-
brows, and his lips became compressed, as closely as if some
resolute purpose of hostility was gathering in his mind.
It seems to me, Bruno, that you love me no longer. You
will not answer my questions� questions which seriously affect
my happiness�and yet it is clear to me that you can do so.
Why is this ? Why should there be any mystery in the case
of one so poor, so humble, such a dependant as myself?"
Love you, Herman ! Do I not love you !" he exclaimed ;
and I could see a big tear gathering within his eye, as he re-
plied in reproachful accents � " Ah, my son, you know not how
much I love you ; you know not now�perhaps you will shortly
know�and when you do, you will see that what I have with-
held from you was wisely withheld. There is a season given
for truth, Herman, and if Bruno forbears the truth in your ears,
it is only that he may wait for a season."
But why should you not tell me of the baroness ? I should
like to form some idea of, and to love her, before I see her."
Then you do not love her ?" he demanded with some quick-