``I thought thou wert a man but even now,''
she said, ``and thou art again a child. Hearken
to me yet, and let us leave this place together.
Have I done thee wrong or injury? if so, yet do
not avenge it so cruelly---See, Elspat MacTavish,
who never kneeled before even to a priest, falls
prostrate before her own son, and craves his forgiveness.''
And at once she threw herself on her
knees before the young man, seized on his hand,
and kissing it an hundred times, repeated as often,
in heart-breaking accents, the most earnest entreaties
for forgiveness. ``Pardon,'' she exclaimed,
``pardon, for the sake of your father's ashes---
pardon, for the sake of the pain with which I bore
thee, the care with which I nurtured thee!---Hear
it, Heaven, and behold it, Earth---the mother asks
pardon of her child, and she is refused!''
It was in vain that Hamish endeavoured to stem
this tide of passion, by assuring his mother, with
the most solemn asseverations, that he forgave entirely
the fatal deceit which she had practised upon
him.
``Empty words,'' she said; ``idle protestations,
which are but used to hide the obduracy of your
resentment. Would you have me believe you, then
leave the but this instant, and retire from a country
which every hour renders more dangerous.
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