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Updated: May 16, 2025
"I will not go a step until you come from the rampart." She clung to him, and appealed so earnestly, the tears of anxiety and fear starting from her eyes, while her white, pleading face was upturned to his, that he could not deny her. All other appeals had been unheeded, but Morgianna's he could not refuse.
Nothing but the glorious reflection that he was making himself a martyr for Morgianna's sake could have induced the officer to take the torches and wade to the low bushes, where he was instructed to make a light and wait until his companion rowed around the island and drove the ducks in great flocks to the light, which he assured the Briton would attract them, and they would fall at his feet as if begging to be bagged.
Both of Morgianna's fathers were present; but to her real father was consigned the honor of giving away the bride. Terrence and Sukey were present. The Irishman declared the matter might have been consummated long ago if they had only left it to him. The wedding day was made a public holiday in the village. Never in all its existence was the little hamlet so gay.
This visit was wholly on his own account. He had walked up and down the piazza two or three times, when through the open door he caught the flutter of a garment on the stairway. It was Morgianna's to whom else could it belong? No dress but hers had such a flow as that. He gathered up courage and followed it into the hallway.
"It affects your head." Fernando admitted that he was not used to it, and he promised to desist. After waltzing for an hour with her and getting a tender squeeze of the hand, he restored her to an affable old lady who acted as Morgianna's chaperon, and then Fernando retired to new conquests, his head in a whirl and his heart in a flutter.
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