Besides that, should the matter be inquired into, how
easy for Bainrothe to allege that my own family had sanctioned his
course to save my reputation! For innuendo was over on this disgraceful
subject. He had declared openly his base design.
Years might elapse before the final exposition, years of utter ruin to
my prospects and my hopes. Wentworth might be married by that time, or
indifferent, or dead; Ernie too old to make the matter of a year or two
of consequence in the carrying out of the nefarious scheme to sustain
which it would be so easy to summon and suborn witnesses.
All these possibilities represented themselves to me with frightful
distinctness; my mind became imbued with them to the exclusion of all
else--of reason even. I was literally panic-stricken, and nothing but
flight could satisfy my instinct, my impulse of self-preservation. I
must go, even if blown like a leaf before the gales of heaven; must fly,
if even to certainty of destruction. I had felt this necessity once
before, be it remembered, but never so stringently, so morbidly as now.
I was yielding under the agony, the anxiety incident to my condition; my
nervous system, too severely taxed, was breaking down, and it would
succumb entirely, unless relief came to me (of this I felt convinced),
before another weary month should roll away.
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