Attempt > Volume 1 and Select writings

THE ATTEMPT
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the common courtesy of asking her visitor to he seated, drew a chair forward to the
fire, and invited him to occupy it, which he did at once, and threw aside a heavy
muffler which had partly concealed his face, hut he apparently felt the evening to he
very cold, for he kept a large Spanish cloak closely wrapped round him. As he sat in
the light of the fire, Alice had a full view of her strange guest; and as she surveyed
him, a feeling of uncontrollable dislike took possession of her. He had a dark
handsome face, but the expression was far from prepossessing; a pair of small dark
eyes seemed to read her every thought; and his voice was soft and persuasive, hut
somehow jarred disagreeably upon the ear. He began the conversation by uttering
some words of sympathy to her on her recent bereavement, and Alice was amazed to
find that he knew all about her, still more so when he added, “ The object of my
visit is to learn all you know about Mr Campbell, and in return I will tell you what
I know of him. My reasons for being so very curious are of great importance, so I
beg of you to conceal nothing, but tell me the whole truth; don’t fear for him.”
Seeing Alice hesitate, he added, “ I am his friend; you will do him no harm.”
Poor Alice, with no one to advise her, and feeling the power of this man’s strong
will, began her story. There was not much to tell; and as my readers already know
all the circumstances of her intimacy with Charles, we need not recapitulate. Her
guest sat opposite to her listening most attentively, and when she hesitated, or was
for a moment overcome by sad remembrances, he gently encouraged her to proceed; so
she hid nothing from him, even with a certain degree of pride telling him how Charles
had renounced the faith in which he had been educated, and by her means had been
brought to know the truth. As she ended, she said, “ I am his betrothed wife, and
on this earth have no other friend, so spare me. 0! tell me nothing that can take that
comfort from me.” Her visitor muttered some words, which sounded like an attempt
to console her, and without waiting for a reply, proceeded with his narrative, which
was a true account of Charles’ rank, wealth, and position. He entered very minutely
into all the details, so minutely that he left not a doubt on his listener’s ear of the
truth of what he was telling her; dwelt long and feelingly on the stormy interview
that had taken place between father and son; depicted the sorrow of his only sister;
drew a most touching picture of the old man’s sudden illness, his son’s distress, and
the object of his hasty journey; then sat looking at Alice without uttering a word.
The poor girl was dumb with grief; she sat as one in a trance; the only thing that her
mind seemed to grasp was the thought, “ Charles has deceived me—he was not what
he seemed! ” Her guest let her sit thus for a time, then essayed to comfort her, but
in such a way that, with every word he uttered, he left a sting. He lingered very