Chapter 6 - Page 2

the burning sensations that he now experienced, might he not
then be again a father to me? This reflection unwrinkled my brow, and
I could feel (and I wept to feel it) a half melancholy smile draw from
my lips their expression of suffering: I dared indulge better hopes
for my future life; years must pass but they would speed lightly away
winged by hope, or if they passed heavily, still they would pass and I
had not lost my father for ever. Let him spend another sixteen years
of desolate wandering: let him once more utter his wild complaints to
the vast woods and the tremendous cataracts of another clime: let him
again undergo fearful danger and soul-quelling hardships: let the hot
sun of the south again burn his passion worn cheeks and the cold night
rains fall on him and chill his blood.

To this life, miserable father, I devote thee!--Go!--Be thy days
passed with savages, and thy nights under the cope of heaven! Be thy
limbs worn and thy heart chilled, and all youth be dead within thee!
Let thy hairs be as snow; thy walk trembling and thy voice have lost
its mellow tones! Let the liquid lustre of thine eyes be quenched; and
then return to me, return to thy Mathilda, thy child, who may then be
clasped in thy loved arms, while thy heart beats with sinless emotion.
Go, Devoted One, and return thus!--This is my curse, a daughter's
curse: go, and return pure to thy child, who will never love aught but
thee.

These were my thoughts; and with trembling hands I prepared to begin a
letter to my unhappy parent. I had now spent many hours in tears and
mournful meditation; it was past twelve o'clock; all was at peace in
the house, and the gentle air that stole in at my window did not
rustle the leaves of the twining plants that shadowed it. I felt the
entire tranquillity of the hour when my own breath and involuntary
sobs were all the sounds that struck upon the air. On a sudden I heard
a gentle step ascending the stairs; I paused breathless, and as it
approached glided into an obscure corner of the room; the steps paused
at my door, but after a few moments they again receeded[,] descended
the stairs and I heard no more.

This slight incident gave rise in me to the most painful reflections;
nor do I now dare express the emotions I felt. That he should be
restless I understood; that he should wander as an unlaid ghost and
find no quiet from the burning hell that consumed his heart. But why
approach my chamber? Was not that sacred? I felt almost ready to faint
while he had stood there, but I had not betrayed my wakefulness by the
slightest motion, although I had heard my own heart beat with violent
fear. He had withdrawn. Oh, never, never, may I see him again!
Tomorrow night the same roof may not cover