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Scott, Walter, Sir, 1771-1832

"The Bride of Lammermoor"


"Tell your master," said Ravenswood, fiercely, "to choose his own time.
He will find me at Wolf's Crag, if his purpose is not forestalled."
"MY master!" replied Craigengelt, encouraged by seeing Colonel Ashton
and Bucklaw at the bottom of the terrace. "Give me leave to say I know
of no such person upon earth, nor will I permit such language to be used
to me!"
"Seek your master, then, in hell!" exclaimed Ravenswood, giving way to
the passion he had hitherto restrained, and throwing Craigengelt from
him with such violence that he rolled down the steps and lay senseless
at the foot of them. "I am a fool," he instantly added, "to vent my
passion upon a caitiff so worthless."
He then mounted his horse, which at his arrival he had secured to a
balustrade in front of the castle, rode very slowly past Bucklaw and
Colonel Ashton, raising his hat as he passed each, and looking in their
faces steadily while he offered this mute salutation, which was returned
by both with the same stern gravity. Ravenswood walked on with equal
deliberation until he reached the head of the avenue, as if to show
that he rather courted than avoided interruption.


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