“It is I,” said she, commanding her astonishment and fear; “and if my ear deceive me not, I speak to Master Bridgenorth.”
“I was that man,” said he, “while oppression left me a name.”
He spoke nothing more, but continued to walk beside her for a minute or two in silence. She felt her situation embarrassing; and to divest it of that feeling, as well as out of real interest in the question, she asked him, “How her god-daughter Alice now was?”
“Of god-daughter, madam,” answered Major Bridgenorth, “I know nothing; that being one of the names which have been introduced, to the corruption and pollution of God’s ordinances. The infant who owed to your ladyship (so called) her escape from disease and death, is a healthy and thriving girl, as I am given to understand by those in whose charge she is lodged, for I have not lately seen her. And it is even the recollection of these passages, which in a manner impelled me, alarmed also by your fall, to offer myself to you at this time and mode, which in other respects is no way consistent with my present safety.”
“With your safety, Master Bridgenorth?” said the Lady Peveril; “surely, I could never have thought that it was in danger!”
“You have some news, then, yet to learn, madam,” said Major Bridgenorth; “but you will hear in the course of tomorrow, reasons why I dare not appear openly in the neighbourhood of my own property, and wherefore there is small judgment in committing the knowledge of my present residence to any one connected with Martindale Castle.”
“Master Bridgenorth,” said the lady, “you were in former times prudent and cautious--I hope you have been misled by no hasty impression--by no rash scheme--I hope----”
“Pardon my interrupting you, madam,” said Bridgenorth. “I have indeed been changed--ay, my very heart within me hath been changed. In the times to which your ladyship (so called) thinks proper to refer, I was a man of this world--bestowing on it all my thoughts--all my actions, save formal observances--little deeming what was the duty of a Christian man, and how far his self-denial ought to extend--even unto his giving all as if he gave nothing. Hence I thought chiefly on carnal things--on the adding of field to field, and wealth to wealth--of balancing between party and party--securing a friend here, without losing a friend there--But Heaven smote me for my apostasy, the rather that I abused the name of religion, as a self-seeker, and a most blinded and carnal will-worshipper--But I thank Him who hath at length brought me out of Egypt.”