I presume you are not so chicken-hearted as to be afraid
of speaking out openly what you intend to do."

"I cannot say when; I had hoped that it would have been very soon;
but all this will of course delay it. It may be years first."

These last were the only pleasant words that Owen had heard. If there
were to be a delay of years, might not his chance still be as good
as Herbert's? But then this delay was to be the consequence of his
cousin's ruined prospects--and the accomplishment of that ruin Owen
had pledged himself to prevent! Was he by his own deed to enable
his enemy to take that very step which he was so firmly resolved to
prevent?

"You will give me your promise," said he, "that you will not marry
her for the next three years? Make me that promise, and I will make
you the same."

Herbert felt that there could be no possibility of his now marrying
within the time named, but nevertheless he would not bring himself
to make such a promise as this. He would make no bargain about Clara
Desmond, about his Clara, which could in any way admit a doubt as to
his own right. Had Owen asked him to promise that he would not marry
her during the next week he would have given no such pledge. "No,"
said he, "I cannot promise that."

"She is now only seventeen."

"It does not matter. I will make no such promise, because on such a
subject you have no right to ask for any. When she will consent to
run her risk of happiness in coming to me, then I shall marry her."

Owen was now walking up and down the room with rapid steps. "You have
not the courage to fight me fairly," said he.

"I do not wish to fight you at all."

"Ah, but you must fight me! Shall I see the prey taken out of my
jaws, and not struggle for it? No, by heavens! you must fight me; and
I tell you fairly, that the fight shall be as hard as I can make it.
I have offered you that which one living man is seldom able to offer
to another,--money, and land, and wealth, and station; all these
things I throw away from me, because I feel that they should be
yours; and I ask only in return the love of a young girl. I ask that
because I feel that it should be mine. If it has gone from me--which
I do not believe--it has been filched and stolen by a thief in the
night. She did love me, if a girl ever loved a man; but she was
separated from me, and I bore that patiently because I trusted her.
But she was young and weak, and her mother was strong and crafty. She
has acce