"There is no softness in your spirit," said Sybil.

"I am met with none."

"We have ever been your friends."

"A blossom that has brought no fruit."

"This hour will be remembered at the judgment-seat," said Sybil.

"The holy Virgin will perhaps interpose for me," said Morley, with a
sneer.

"We have merited this," said Sybil, "who have taken an infidel to our
hearts."

"If he had only been a heretic, like Egremont!" said Morley. Sybil burst
into tears. Morley sprang to her. "Swear by the holy Virgin, swear by
all the saints, swear by your hope of heaven and by your own sweet name;
without equivocation, without reserve, with fulness and with truth, that
you will never give your heart or hand to Egremont;--and I will save
your father."

As in a low voice, but with a terrible earnestness, Morley dictated
this oath, Sybil, already pale, became white as the marble saint of some
sacred niche. Her large dark eyes seemed fixed; a fleet expression of
agony flitted over her beautiful brow like a cloud; and she said, "I
swear that I will never give my hand to--"

"And your heart, your heart," said Morley eagerly. "Omit not that.
Swear by the holy oaths again you do not love him. She falters! Ah! she
blushes!" For a burning brightness now suffused the cheek of Sybil. "She
loves him," exclaimed Morley, wildly, and he rushed franticly from the
room.

Book 5 Chapter 5

Agitated and overcome by these unexpected and passionate appeals, and
these outrageous ebullitions acting on her at a time when she herself
was labouring under no ordinary excitement, and was distracted with
disturbing thoughts, the mind of Sybil seemed for a moment to desert
her; neither by sound nor gesture did she signify her sense of Morley's
last words and departure; and it was not until the loud closing of the
street door echoing through the long passage recalled her to herself,
that she was aware how much was at stake in that incident. She darted
out of the room to recall him; to make one more effort for her father;
but in vain. By the side of their house was an intricate passage leading
into a labyrinth of small streets. Through this Morley had disappeared;
and his name, more than once sounded in a voice of anguish in that
silent and most obsolete Smith's Square, received no echo.

Darkness and terror came over the spirit of Sybil; a sense of
confounding and confusing woe, with which it was in vain to cope. The
conviction of her hel