ignation, and half impressed by a lurking hope
that, notwithstanding the curtness of his manner, he was determined to
befriend him.

This, however, was far from the heart of old Corbet, whose pertinacity
of purpose nothing short of death itself could either moderate or
change.

"Prevent the marriage, indeed! Oh, ay! Catch me at it. No, no; that must
take place, or I'm balked of half my revenge. It's when he finds that
he has, by his own bad and blind passions, married her to the
profligate without the title that he'll shiver. And that scamp, too, the
bastard--but, no matther--I must try and keep my head clear, as I said,
for to-morrow will be a great day, either for good or evil, to some
of them. Yes, and when all is over, then my mind will be at aise; this
black thing that's inside o' me for years--drivin' me on, on, on--will
go about his business; and then, plaise goodness, I can repent
comfortably and like a Christian. Oh, dear me!--my head!"

CHAPTER XLI. Denouement.

At length the important morning, fraught with a series of such varied
and many-colored events, arrived. Sir Thomas Gourlay, always an early
riser, was up betimes, and paced his room to and fro in a train of
profound reflection. It was evident, however, from his elated yet turbid
eye, that although delight and exultation were prevalent in his
breast, he was by no means free from visitations of a dark and painful
character. These he endeavored to fling off, and in order to do so
more effectually, he gave a loose rein to the contemplation of his own
successful ambition. Yet he occasionally appeared anxious and uneasy,
and felt disturbed and gloomy fits that irritated him even for
entertaining them. He was more than usually nervous; his hand shook,
and his stern, strong voice had in its tones, when he spoke, the audible
evidences of agitation. These, we say, threw their deep shadows over
his mind occasionally, whereas a sense of triumph and gratified pride
constituted its general tone and temper.

"Well," said he, "so far so well: Lucy will soon become reconciled to
this step, and all my projects for her advancement will be--nay, already
are, realized. After all, my theory of life is the correct one, no
matter what canting priests and ignorant philosophers may say to the
contrary. Every man is his own providence, and ought to be his own
priest, as I have been. As for a moral plan in the incidents and
vicissitudes of life, I could never see nor