Destiny is merciless,
but who ever heard of Destiny playing mere cruel practical jokes upon
man? Up to now the Fates have never set up as humorists. Now, for a
man to love, to dote upon, a girl whose father is the violator of his
own father's tomb--a wretch who has called down upon himself the most
terrible curse of a dead man that has ever been uttered--_that_ would
be a fate too fantastically cruel to be permitted by Heaven--by any
governing power whose sanctions were not those of a whimsical
cruelty.'
Yet those words of my mother's about Wynne, and her suspicions of
him, were flitting about the air of the room like fiery-eyed bats.
The air of the room--ah! it was stifling me. I opened the window and
leant out. But that made matters a thousand times worse, for the moon
was now at the very full, and staring across--staring at
what?--staring across the sea at the tall tower of the old church on
the cliff, where perhaps the sin--the 'unpardonable sin,' according
to Cymric ideas--of sacrilege--sacrilege committed by _her_ father
upon the grave of mine--might at this moment be going on.
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