y
no! I'll die with it first!" O merciful Father, I thought; what misery
is to come of this jest. He must relinquish it. Gibbes will force him
into it, or die in the attempt; George would come from Virginia....
Jimmy would cross the seas.... And I was alone in here to deal with
such a spirit!

I commenced gently. Would he do Miriam such a wrong? It was no wrong,
he said; let him follow his own will. "You profess to love her?" I
asked. "Profess? Great God! how can you? I adore her! I tell you that,
in spite of all this, I love her not more--that is impossible,--but as
much as ever! Look at my face and ask that!" burst from him with the
wildest impulse. "Very well. This girl you _love_, then, you mean to
make miserable. You stand forever between her and her happiness,
because you love her! Is this love?" He was sullenly silent. I went on:
"Not only her happiness, but her honor is concerned. You who love her
so, do her this foul injury." "Would it affect her reputation?" he
asked. "Ask yourself! Is it quite right that you should hold in your
hands the evidence that she is Mrs. Carter, when you know she is not,
and never will be? Is it quite honorable?" "In God's name, would it
injure Miriam? I'd rather die than grieve her."

My iron was melted, but too hot to handle; I put it on one side,
satisfied that I and I only had saved Miriam from injury and three
brothers from bloodshed, by using his insane love as a lever. It does
not look as hard here as it was in reality; but it was of the hardest
struggles I ever had--indeed, it was desperate. I had touched the right
key, and satisfied of success, turned the subject to let him believe he
was following his own suggestions. When I told him he must free Miriam
from all blame, that I had encouraged the jest against her repeated
remonstrances, and was alone to blame, he generously took it on
himself. "I was so crazy about her," he said, "that I would have done
it anyhow. I would have run any risk for the faintest chance of
obtaining her"; and much more to the same purpose that, though very
generous in him, did not satisfy my conscience. But he surprised me by
saying that he was satisfied that if I had been in my room, and he had
walked into the parlor with the license, she would have married him.
What infatuation! He says, though, that I only prevented it; that my
influence, by my mere presence, is stronger than his words. I don't say
that is so; but if I helped save her, thank He