CHAPTER XVI

The Critical Move—Attempted Escape.

When Blodget had retired from the room, our heroine gave vent to the painful feelings which her interview with him had excited in her bosom; and hope seemed to have faded entirely away from her mind; for if the villain remained obstinately resolved to put his diabolical threats into execution, what means had she of resisting him? None! Then again the hints he had given convinced her that he had some base design in his mind.

She was aroused from these reflections by the entrance of the old woman who had come to do something in her apartment, and whose disagreeable looks assured our heroine that she took a pleasure in tormenting her, and saying anything which she thought might excite her feelings, and Inez, therefore, determined to avoid conversing with her, as much as she possibly could. The old woman, however, appeared to be determined that she should not escape so easily; for the words she had so pointedly directed to her in the morning, remained in her memory; and after having eyed her with an insolent glance for a second or two, she ejaculated, in her usual harsh but querulous tones:—

‘I hope your ladyship feels happier after the interview you have had with your lover, and that the observations he has addressed to you, have met your approbation. Oh, he is a very nice gentleman! He! he! he!’

And the disgusting old woman croaked forth a laugh, which could scarcely have been imagined to have been uttered by anything but a witch; and appeared to think that she had spoken very wittily and sarcastically. But Inez did not deign to condescend her any answer, and she averted her eyes, for there was something so remarkably disagreeable in the woman’s face, that she could not bear to look upon it.

The old woman saw plain enough that her observations annoyed Inez, and although she felt rather vexed and disappointed that she did not answer her, she determined to follow them up.

‘It seems that you have lost your tongue since your interview with Mr. Blodget,’ she said; ‘but that is of very little consequence, I can talk enough for you and I too, and as Gordon has left the house, you will, in all probability, have a little more of my company than you otherwise would have done.’

‘Gordon left the house?’ repeated our heroine eagerly; ‘thank Heaven!’

‘Indeed!’ said the old woman; ‘then, if his absence affords you pleasure, I can tell you that it will not be of long duration;—he is only gone some distance on a secret mission, for which he is to receive a handsome reward from Mr. Blodget!’

‘Ah!’ cried our heroine, turning very pale, and a feeling of horror coming over her; ‘on a secret mission for Blodget? In what fresh plot of villainy is he engaged?’

‘Oh, that I do not know; and if I did, it is not very likely that I should inform you. It is something of importance I dare say, or else Gordon would not have been employed; and no doubt concerns you.’

Inez felt her horror increase, and she trembled so that she could scarcely stand. The old hag observed her emotion with much satisfaction, and a savage grin overspread her features.

‘Something that concerns me;’ she exclaimed, and her terrible forebodings convinced her that the old woman did not make use of these observations without good reason.

‘Oh, my dear friend!’ she added, as she recalled to her memory the dark hints which Blodget had given utterance to, and covering her face with her hands, she sobbed hysterically. ‘Oh, my unfortunate rescuer;’ she continued, ‘I tremble for you; surely this is some dark plot against you. Heaven protect you and avert the evil fate destined to you by your implacable enemy!’

‘If Blodget only plays his cards successfully, as he has hitherto done, I do not think that there is much chance of your seeing your _poor unfortunate_ lover again;’ said the hag with a sneer, and a look which was perfectly hideous.

Poor Inez gazed upon the unnatural old beldame with a look of horror and disgust.

‘Inhuman woman;’ she ejaculated, ‘thus to take a pleasure in tormenting one of your own sex, who has never offended you, and whose misfortunes and oppressions ought to excite your pity and sympathy.’

‘Pity and sympathy,’ repeated the woman, with bitter sarcasm; ‘they are qualities that none but fools would retain possession of; I never experienced them from any person yet, and I have banished mine from my breast many years since.’

‘I do believe you,’ sighed Inez; ‘but I can sincerely pity _you_, for there will be a time come when you will be brought to a terrible sense of your iniquities, and awful will then be the punishment you will have to undergo.’

‘Hey day!’ exclaimed the beldame; ‘I declare you’re quite an adept at preaching a sermon, but its beauties are entirely lost upon me; and I do not think that you will find Mr. Blodget any more ready to approve of them than I am.’

‘Leave the room,’ said Inez, in a tone of resentment, ‘and let me alone to my reflections; your language is brutal, and I will not listen to it.’

‘But I am afraid you will have to listen to it very frequently,’ returned the old woman, ‘as disagreeable as it may be. As for leaving the room, you will please to recollect that you are not mistress here, consequently I shall not attend to your orders until it pleases me.’

Inez walked away, and throwing herself into a chair, once more covered her face with her hands, determined not to pay any future attention to what the old harridan might say. The latter laughed sneeringly, and after muttering a few spiteful remarks that our heroine did not hear, she applied herself more assiduously to the task she had to perform in the room, and at the same time hummed, in discordant tones, snatches from different vulgar songs, which fell listlessly upon the ears of Inez, who was too deeply engaged by her own melancholy thoughts to pay any attention to them.

At length having, much to the satisfaction of our heroine, completed her domestic duties in the room, the woman fixed upon Inez a spiteful look, and then retired from the apartment. When she had gone, our heroine immediately sunk upon her knees, and, with upraised hands, she implored the mercy of the Supreme Being, and that He would protect her father and her lover from any danger by which they might be threatened. She arose more composed and confident, and endeavored to hope that, after all, the wicked designs of Blodget might be foiled, and that something would yet transpire to release her from her present incarceration, and the future persecution of the villain Blodget, for whom no punishment could be adequate to the different crimes he had been guilty of.

Frequently did her thoughts revert to home, and she could well imagine the grief experienced at her mysterious disappearance. The idea of the deplorable condition of Monteagle was maddening nay, perhaps he was no more, and she was not present to receive his last sigh, or to enfold him in a dying embrace.—The thought was almost past endurance; and it was a fortunate thing for our heroine that a torrent of tears came to the relief of her overcharged heart.

Three weeks elapsed without any material change taking place in the situation or prospects of Inez. Blodget visited her every day, and she was annoyed by his disgusting importunities; and frequently was he so worked up by the opposition which she offered to him, that he was half tempted to proceed to violence; but a secret power appeared to restrain him, and to watch over his unfortunate victim.

Blodget was in a state of considerable anxiety and suspense, for he had not yet heard anything from Gordon, and sometimes he was fearful that he had been detected and was in custody; but again he thought, if he had been so, he should see some account of it in the newspapers, and he, therefore, at last endeavored to conclude that Gordon thought it prudent not to write to him, and that he was in a fair way of being ultimately successful in his blood-thirsty designs.

The thieves had made several successful hauls, since the departure of Gordon, and they were not less anxious than Blodget was to know what had become of him, and whether he was safe, for Gordon was acquainted with many circumstances that might greatly endanger them, should he be tempted to divulge them. Such is the doubt and suspicions that ever exist between the guilty.

At length, however, after another fortnight, a message arrived at the ranch of Gordon, which came from him, and it may well be imagined with what eager haste Blodget broke the seal, and glanced his eyes over the contents. They afforded him the most unbounded satisfaction.

‘Ah! by the infernal host! this is capital,’ exclaimed Blodget, when he had concluded perusing the letter; ‘my vengeance will soon be complete; and I have no doubt that Gordon will shortly be able to discover Monteagle, and to accomplish the deed for which my soul pants.’

He immediately sought out Jenkins, who was at his usual place of resort when he was not on his expeditions, and showed him the letter from Gordon. The robber captain perused it with satisfaction, and his apprehensions were now at rest.

‘What think you of the suggestion which Gordon has made?’ asked Blodget, when Jenkins had finished reading the letter.

‘Why, that it is a very excellent one,’ answered the captain.

‘True,’ coincided Blodget.

‘You will avail yourself of it, then?’

‘Why, think you not I should be foolish to miss such an opportunity?’

‘I do.’

‘Gordon deserves an extra reward for this.’

‘He is a shrewd fellow.’

‘And one who does not stand particular about trifles.’

‘No, crime and he are familiar. But how would you accomplish this design?’

‘I have not as yet had time to consider it properly,’ answered Blodget; ‘can you give me any advice, captain?’

‘Gordon I do not think can do it without assistance.’

‘Probably not.’

‘If I and a crew run the risk of going in a boat to Mission Creek, and bring the fellow away, of course you will reward us?’

‘Certainly; but that course will be attended with much danger, for should the real character of your boat be known—’

‘Oh, I can manage it so that there will be no danger of a discovery taking place,’ replied Jenkins.

‘Ah, then, be it so, and we will not fall out about the reward.’

‘Agreed,’ answered the captain, ‘an answer must, therefore, be despatched to the place where Gordon is staying, acquainting him with our intentions, so that he may make the necessary preparations for carrying our designs into execution.’

‘It shall be done immediately. But think you that success is at all likely?’

‘It is all but certain.’

‘And had Monteagle better be brought to the house where Inez is confined?’

‘That you can use your own pleasure in,’ replied Jenkins.

Blodget reflected for a few moments.

‘No,’ he at last said, ‘it shall not be so at present; I think it would be as well not to let Inez know anything about it for a short time.’

‘Why so?’

‘Why,’ returned Blodget, ‘in the first place, the sudden shock might be attended with fatal consequences to her; and in the next, I think it would be better to break it out to her by degrees, and make the circumstance subservient to my designs upon her.’

‘That is my opinion,’ remarked Jenkins, ‘but you are a fool, Blodget, to delay the indulgence of your desires so long, when you have it in your power to gratify them immediately. If you wait until you prevail upon the lady to consent, I think you will be likely to tarry a long while.’

‘That is your opinion?’

‘It is.’

‘Mine is a different one.’

‘You must have a very high opinion of your powers of captivation, if that is really your belief,’ returned Jenkins.

‘Perhaps so,’ said Blodget, ‘but time will show; and now that I have the prospect of getting this fellow into my power, I am the more disposed to wait patiently and give my plans a fair trial.’

‘And wait until de Castro or his friends discover the retreat of the lady, force her from your power, and bring you to punishment,’ rejoined Jenkins.

‘If Gordon is successful, there will be no fear of that.’

‘Maybe so; but you remember the old proverb—“a bird in hand is worth two in the bush.”’

‘At any rate, I have made up my mind to run the chance of it.’

‘Well, of course, you are at liberty to do as you think proper,’ observed the captain; ‘but if you succeed in getting this youngster in our power, where do you think of placing him?’

‘Know you of any person that can be trusted with him?’

‘I do.’

‘And does he reside far from this place?’

‘Close upon the spot.’

‘Is the place obscure?’

‘It is little frequented.’

‘And who is he?’

‘One of my gang; you may depend upon him.’

‘’Tis well; and you think he will accept of the charge?’

‘I am certain of it; he would do it gladly.’

‘Perhaps you will see him and make the proposal; it would come better from your lips than mine.’

‘I will do so.’

‘You have my thanks, captain.’

‘’Pshaw! I don’t want them. But, mark now, he must be well paid for his trouble, and keeping the secret.’

‘I have no objection to that.’

‘This will be an expensive job for you.’

‘Were it to cost me twenty times as much, I would not begrudge it to gratify my revenge.’

‘You are a most implacable foe.’

‘So my enemies have good reason to say.’

‘But come, there is no necessity for delay; have the letter written and forwarded to Gordon as quickly as possible.’

‘It shall be done.’

‘In the meantime I will go down to Kitson, and make the proposal to him.’

‘Ay, do; and do not be afraid to promise a most liberal remuneration.’

‘I will do so, depend upon it.’

‘And when do you propose starting on this expedition?’

‘By the night after to-morrow, at the latest.’

‘Your promptitude pleases me.’

‘Delay is dangerous; that is always my motto.’

‘And a very good one; I will adopt it on this occasion; farewell.’

‘Good night; although I shall probably see you again.’

‘Well do, if you can, for I shall be anxious to know whether or not this Kitson, as you call him, will undertake this charge.’

‘Oh, there is very little doubt but that he will do so.’

Having arrived at the conclusion of this brief colloquy, the two worthies separated, and Blodget bent his way to the ranch, to write the letter to Gordon; elated at the prospect of the success of his diabolical stratagems, and determined at any expense or danger to prosecute them.

In the epistle he gave Gordon all the information he could require, and highly praised his indefatigability, at the same time encouraging him to further exertions, by the promise of rewarding him accordingly.

The letter was immediately forwarded to the proper quarter, and had not long done so, when Jenkins returned.

‘Well, captain, how have you succeeded?’ asked Blodget.

‘As I anticipated.’

‘Then the man is willing.’

‘He is.’

‘And think you we may depend upon his secrecy?’

‘There is no fear of that!’

‘Did you not bind him by an oath?’

‘There was no necessity for that! Kitson’s word is his bond.’

‘And did you make him acquainted with the particulars?’

‘I was compelled to, to enable him to be more upon his guard.’

‘Ay, true! And you mentioned the reward?’

‘It is not so much as I anticipated.’

‘What is it?’

‘He demands two hundred dollars.’

‘It shall be his freely, immediately the fellow is placed in his care, one hundred more to that, if he well perform his task, and keeps the secret inviolable.’

‘I tell you again, there is no fear of his not doing that.’

‘Then all, so far is well,’ observed Blodget.

‘It shall be so; and now we will have a glass or two together, to drink success to this undertaking.’

‘With all my heart,’ replied the captain; and taking his seat, bottles were immediately placed upon the table, and they proceeded to drink with much alacrity, toast after toast following each other in rapid succession, while the deep potations which they quaffed, took but a trifling effect upon them, so accustomed were they to habits of intemperance.

‘Perhaps,’ said Blodget, after a pause, ‘it would have been much more satisfactory had Gordon succeeded in despatching him.’

‘I like not the unnecessary shedding of human blood.’

‘Then you have never felt the sentiments that I do.’

‘You know not that; but, villain as I am, and have been from a boy, I never yet shed the blood of my fellow man, unless it was in a fight and in self defence.’

‘And yet you would have insisted up on one of your fellows committing murder, had not Gordon undertaken to do it.’

‘Because I had pledged my word to you that it should be done, and nothing would have induced me to break it.’

‘Ha! ha! ha!’ laughed out Blodget; ‘there’s honor for you, in the captain of a desperate gang of robbers.’

‘Ay you may mock me, if you think proper, but I have spoken the truth.’

Blodget made no further observation, but walked away, and Jenkins rejoined his companions at their rendezvous.

In the meantime Inez’ situation was just as helpless as ever, and Blodget daily continued to annoy her with importunities, and hourly became more bold and confident in his manners towards her, and she noticed it, and could not help thinking that something had happened to occasion this alteration in his behavior, and at times her mind felt some severe misgivings, which she found it impossible to comprehend. Blodget had not, however, yet mentioned anything, and, therefore, she could not entertain any positive suspicion.

So well secured was every place, that our heroine had long ago given up all idea of escaping, and rested her only hope of deliverance upon her friends discovering her place of confinement; but a circumstance, a short time after this, happened, which gave her some reason to hope.

Notwithstanding the utter disgust which our heroine ever evinced in the company of the old woman, she persisted in obtruding her society upon her at every opportunity, and, as we have before stated, it was very evident that she felt a pleasure in making Inez miserable. Guilt is always envious of the virtues it never possessed, and feels a delight in evincing its hatred of its possessor in every possible way. This, however, she concealed from Blodget, well aware that he would not approve of it, and Inez considered it too contemptible to take any notice of it, and if she had, she would not have troubled herself to mention it to her persecutor, who might feel little disposed to trouble himself in the matter.

The woman would make any excuse to be in the same room with our heroine, and when she was tired of talking to her, Inez seldom condescending her a reply, she would sing portions of vulgar songs, in a manner which would have done honor to Sydney Valley in its darkest days. The mind of Inez, however, was so fully occupied with her own thoughts that she seldom paid any attention to her, and not unfrequently was she almost entirely unconscious of her presence.

It was one evening, a short time after the events which we have been recording had taken place, that the hag paid our heroine her accustomed and unwelcome visit, and, as soon as she entered the room, Inez could perceive that she had been drinking and was quite intoxicated. This circumstance rather alarmed her, for she was afraid that the old woman being thus excited, might be guilty of some excesses; but still she reflected, she had nothing to apprehend from her, as the persons who were in the ranch would be sure to come to her aid, and thus she was in safety. But to be alone, and in the power of wretches who cared not what crime they committed, was sufficient of itself to fill her mind with terror, and she had great difficulty in supporting her feelings.

The old woman staggered to a seat, for she could scarcely stand, and having dropped into it, she raised her blood-shot eyes towards the countenance of our heroine, and fixed upon her a look expressive of her usual malevolence. Inez averted her head, and, taking up a book, pretended to be reading; but the old woman was not to be diverted that way, and, after several ineffectual attempts to speak, she stammered out—

‘They are all gone out but one man, and he has fallen asleep by the fire, and so I thought I would come up stairs and keep you company, you are fond of my company, I know.’

This speech was accompanied by sundry hiccups, and the disgusting old woman rolled about in the chair apparently in the most uncomfortable manner. Inez trembled, but she endeavored to conceal her fears as much as possible, and pretended to be continuing to read the book she held in her hand, and did not make any reply.

‘Mr. Blodget is a very foolish man,’ continued the old woman—‘he is a very foolish man, or he would not stand shilly-shallying and dilly-dallying with you, my fine lady, in the manner he has. Such squeamish minxes, indeed; poh!’

We need not attempt to describe the feelings of our heroine, while the old woman was thus proceeding; she endeavored to close her ears to the words she was giving utterance to, but in vain, and the disgust which she felt was most unbounded.

‘Why don’t you answer me?’ demanded the beldame in a surly tone; ‘I suppose you think yourself above me, don’t you? But I can tell you you are not. You are a prisoner, but I am not, and—’

A very long yawn stopped the old woman’s tirade, and her head dropped upon the table. She muttered two or three incoherent words, and shortly afterwards her loud snoring convinced our heroine that the effects of the liquor she had been drinking had overpowered her, and that she had fallen off to sleep.

Inez laid down her book; a sudden thought darted across her mind, and her heart palpitated with emotion. She remembered what the woman had said about there being but one man in the house, and that he was asleep below.—The room door was open—the old woman slept soundly, and she was not likely to be awakened easily—a famous opportunity presented itself for her to attempt to make her escape. The chance was worth encountering any danger in making the effort, and she determined to avail herself of it.

Hastily putting on her shawl, Inez mentally invoked the assistance of Heaven, and then, with noiseless footsteps, approached the chair on which the old woman was sitting, to make sure that she was not assuming drunkenness and sleep, and she was soon convinced that she was not. She now lightly stepped on to the landing, and closing the door gently upon the unconscious old woman, locked it after her, and thus left her a secure prisoner. She then leant her head over the bannisters, and listened attentively, but hearing no noise below, she was in hope that all was right, and ventured to begin to descend the stairs.

Having passed down one flight, she once more paused and listened attentively, but all remained as still as death, and her hopes became more sanguine.

At length she reached the door of the parlor, which was closed, and Inez hesitated, and her heart beat so vehemently against her side that she could scarcely support herself.

‘Courage, Courage!’ she whispered to herself, ‘this is the critical moment. Let me be firm, and I may escape.’

Her trembling and hesitation decreased as these thoughts crossed her mind, and she laid her hand on the handle of the door. It opened with a creaking noise, which again excited her fear, lest it should arouse the man; but her alarm was, fortunately groundless. A light was burning on the table, and the fire cast forth a cheerful blaze, and by their light our heroine beheld a ruffian seated in the chair, his arms folded across his chest, and fast asleep.

Inez’s heart bounded, and hope was strengthened tenfold. The near prospect of liberty excited in her breast a feeling of extacy which may be conceived but cannot be described. The moon shone brightly in at the window, and its silvery beams seemed to smile encouragement upon her. Another moment, she reflected, and she might inhale the pure air, and be as free. The thought nerved her on; and knowing that every moment was fraught with danger, she determined to act with promptitude. But the sleeping ruffian was so seated that she could not gain the door without passing him closely, and then she must act with the greatest caution or she might arouse him. She advanced one step, but hastily retreated again, hearing him yawn, and he seemed as if he was about to awaken. She stood in trembling suspense, but it was not for long; the man having stretched out his arms, and yawned two or three times, sunk back on his chair again, and his loud snoring soon convinced her that he was again asleep.

She now once more commended herself to the protection of Heaven, and again advanced towards the door. She had passed the sleeping ruffian—the door was in her hand, and liberty was just before her; when there was a loud noise, like that of some heavy weight falling, from the room above; and Inez was so alarmed that she had not the power of moving one way or the other, but stood at the door trembling violently.

The noise immediately aroused the man, and, hastily starting to his feet, he rubbed his eyes, and stared eagerly around the room. They instantly rested on our unfortunate heroine, and, giving utterance to a dreadful oath, he rushed towards her, and seizing her fiercely by the arm, dragged her back. Inez sunk upon her knees, and in terrified accents exclaimed—

‘Oh, mercy, mercy! spare me—save me, for the love of Heaven, save me!’

‘Ah! you would escape?’ exclaimed the ruffian; ‘speak, answer me—how did you contrive to leave the apartment in which you have been confined?’

The ruffian looked ferociously upon her while he spoke, and Inez trembled more violently than before when she gazed upon the frightful features of the man. Her lips quivered, and in vain did she endeavor to articulate a syllable.

‘Speak, I tell you again!’ demanded the villain; ‘how came you hither? By what means did you contrive to leave the room?’

‘The door was left unfastened,’ faltered out Inez; ‘oh, do not harm me.’

‘The door left unfastened?’ repeated the man; ‘who left it so?’

‘The woman.’

‘Ah! the old hag—if she has done this she shall answer for it. But where is she?’

‘In the room I have just quitted, and asleep,’ replied Inez.

‘Ah! I see how it is; myself and her have been indulging ourselves rather too freely, and both are equally to blame; we must be more cautious for the future. Come, my girl, you must allow me to escort you to your old quarters, and depend upon it, you will not have such another opportunity as this. Come!’

‘Oh,’ supplicated our heroine, not thinking in the despair of the moment, of the uselessness of appealing to the flinty heart of the wretch, ‘do not consign me, I beseech you, to that dismal apartment again, take pity upon me, a deeply injured woman as I am, and suffer me to escape. Believe me, you shall be amply rewarded for such an inestimable service.’

‘Oh, no,’ returned the ruffian and a malignant grin overspread his countenance; ‘it won’t do, I’m not to be caught in that way; I can very well understand what my reward would be, but they must catch me before they give it me. Ha! ha! ha! Come, come, you must come with me, or I must use force—that’s all about it.’

Poor Inez clasped her hands in the intensity of her grief, and finding that it would be useless to entreat any further, with a despairing heart, she slowly retraced her footsteps to the chamber from which she had so recently escaped, followed by the wretch.

On opening the door they found the old woman stretched at full length upon the floor; and it was evident that it was from her that the noise had proceeded, which so unfortunately aroused the man, and prevented her escape, at the very moment when the chance was before her.

It was some time before the thief could arouse the old woman to sensibility, and when she did so, he commanded her sternly to follow him.

‘Hey day!’ cried the hag, rubbing her eyes, and looking with stupified amazement at our heroine, who had sunk despairingly in a chair, and leaning her elbow upon the table, and her head upon her hand, was weeping bitterly; ‘what’s the matter now?’

‘What’s the matter!’ reiterated the man, ‘why, that through your infernal stupidity, the bird had nearly flown.’

‘Ah—what, do you mean to say that she had nearly escaped?’ croaked forth the old woman, and she looked more savage than ever at Inez.

‘Yes, I mean to say that she would have escaped,’ replied he, ‘and a pretty scrape we should then both have got into.’

‘Why, where was I at the time?’

‘Fast asleep, and a safe prisoner in this room, locked in.’

‘Locked in!’ ejaculated the beldame, ‘oh, I see it all now, that confounded gin got the better of me, and you too, I think, and, therefore, one is as much to blame as the other. We ought to thank our lucky stars that it has turned out as it has. But the artful jade, to lock me in, to—to—’

‘There, that’s enough,’ interrupted the fellow, ‘you would stand talking here all night. We will leave the lady to her own reflections, which, doubtless, will not be very pleasant. Blodget will be home shortly, I expect, and, should he find us together, he might suspect something wrong. Good night, my lady, and when you next try to escape, you had better use a little more expedition with your caution. Come, we must see and arrange this business somehow or another.’

The old woman fixed upon Inez one more malicious look, and appeared to exult in the agony she was undergoing at having been thwarted in her attempt, and then following the wretch, they both quitted the room, and secured the door after them.

They both congratulated themselves when they had got below, that Inez had not been successful, and were determined to be more cautious in future. Another moment, and our heroine would have been at liberty, and they trembled when they reflected upon the consequences that would have been certain to follow her escape. They both, however, considered that it would be better for them not to mention anything about it to Blodget or the others, as it would only excite his suspicions that all was not right, and probably deprive them of his confidence and friendship, which, as he was very liberal, was not to be treated lightly. Thus the affair was amicably arranged between the two worthies, and the old spitfire determined to annoy our unfortunate heroine more than ever, for the ‘audacious’ (as she termed it) attempt she had made to escape, and moreover, for her unparalleled presumption and atrocity, in having actually made her a prisoner in the very place where she had been herself confined.

As for poor Inez, she was completely overwhelmed with the intensity of her anguish and disappointment, and for some time after the man and the old woman had left her, she remained in almost a state of unconsciousness.

‘Alas,’ she at last ejaculated, beating her breast, ‘fate has conspired against me, and I am doomed to perpetual misery. Am I never to escape from the power of these wretches? Has the Omnipotent Being entirely forsaken me? Oh, God! let me die rather than live to endure this succession of miseries and disappointments.’

She clasped her burning temples, and arising from her chair, traversed the room in the greatest possible agony. If Blodget should become acquainted with the circumstance, she could not help thinking that he would be induced to adopt even more stringent measures towards her; but then she consoled herself with the reflection that it was not likely that the man or the old woman would let him know anything about it, as they would be blamed for neglect, and Blodget would deem it prudent to remove her to some other place of confinement. She passed two or three hours in the greatest state of agitation, and could not venture to retire to rest, but listened to the slightest sound which proceeded from below, fearing to hear the villain Blodget return home.

At length all was still in the house, and tired out with thinking, Inez committed herself to the care of Providence, and undressing herself, hastened into bed, and, in spite of the state of her mind, after the painful event which we have been detailing, she was so weary, that it was not long ere she sunk to sleep.

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