"
"A curse!" reiterated Thaddeus. "How is this!--what have I done, to
deserve such hatred from your father?"
"Oh! nothing," cried Pembroke--"nothing. My father never saw you. My
father thanks you for all that you have done for me; but it is your
country that he hates. Some Polander, years back, injured him; and my
father took a fatal oath against the whole nation. He declares that
he cannot, he will not, break it, were he by so doing to save his own
life, or even mine; for, (Heaven forgive me!) I was this morning
wrought up to such frenzy, that I threatened to destroy myself rather
than sacrifice my gratitude and honor to his cruel commands! Nay, to
convince you that his is no personal enmity to yourself, he ordered
me to give you writings which will put you in possession of an
independence forever. I have them with me."
All the pride of his princely house rose at once in the breast of
Thaddeus. Though full of indignation at this insult of Sir Robert's,
he regarded the averted face of his friend with compassion, whilst in
a firm voice he rejected the degrading compromise.
"Tell your father," added he, addressing Pembroke, in a tone which
even his affection could not soften from a command, "that my absence
is not to be bought with money, nor my friendship so rewarded."
Pembroke covered his burning face with his hands. This sight at once
brought down the haughty spirit of Sobieski, who continued in gentler
accents, "Whatever be the sentiments of Sir Robert Somerset, they
shall meet with clue attention from me.
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