The Buccaneer - A Tale - Page 202/364

Had a spectre sprung from the earth, Sir Willmott could not have

regarded it with greater astonishment or dismay. He would have passed,

but she still stood in his path, her head uncovered, and her black

luxuriant hair braided around it, displaying to full advantage her

strikingly beautiful but strongly marked Jewish features: her eyes,

black and penetrating, discovered little of gentle or feminine

expression, but sparkled and fired restlessly in their sockets: her lips

curled and quivered as she sought words, for some time in vain, in which

to address the false, base knight.

Fleetword was the first to speak.

"In the name of the Lord, I charge thee, avoid our path, young maniac!

for, of a truth, there is little sobriety, little steadiness, in thy

look, which savoureth neither of peace nor contentment. What wouldst

thou with my friend?--This is his bridal-day, and he has no leisure for

such as thee."

"The devil take thee with him, thou everlasting pestilence!" exclaimed

Burrell to the preacher, fiercely, forgetting all moderation in the

excess of his passion; for at the word "bridal" a change as awful as can

be imagined to shadow the face of woman rested on the countenance of

Zillah. "Avoid me, both of ye!" he continued; "and you, young sir, who

so eagerly rush upon your own destruction, avoid me especially: the time

for trifling is past!"

During this burst of rage, the Jewess kept her eyes steadily fixed upon

Burrell, and held her hand within the bosom of her vest. When he paused,

she addressed him at first in broken English, and then finding that she

could not proceed with the eagerness and fluency her case required, she

spoke in French.

She first appealed to her seducer's honour; referred to his marriage

with her; called to mind his protestations of affection, and used all

the entreaties which a woman's heart so naturally suggests, to arouse

his better feelings on her behalf. All was in vain; for Burrell parried

it all, managing to recover his self-possession while she exhausted

herself with words. She then vowed that, if he failed to render her

justice, she would, as she had threatened at a former time, throw

herself, and the proofs she possessed of his villany, at the Protector's

feet, and be his ruin. Sir Willmott then sought to temporise, assured

her that it was necessity obliged him to forsake her; and would have

persuaded her to meet him or go with him into the house, where, he

assured her, he could perhaps arrange--perhaps---"No," she replied, in the less strong, but more poetic language of

France, "I will go under no roof with you, I will exchange no token, no

pledge with you. I believe you would follow me to the death; and if you

fail to do me justice, I will pursue you to the same, and not you alone.

No woman but myself shall ever rest upon your bosom. I swear by the God

of Abraham, of Isaac, and of Jacob, that I will have vengeance, though

my nation should spill out my blood as a sacrifice before the Lord for

my iniquities, the next hour!" She shook back her head as she pronounced

the vow, and her hair, loosened from its confinement, cloaked her slight

figure with a robe of darkness.