The Manchester Examiner. — 1848-05-13 (Manchester, Greater Manchester, England)

SCENE.  She rose and walked to the door. He seized her wrist  "Let me go, sir; you hurt me. . . . This violence is. manly—but it is like you. . . Let me go. . . Will you force me to ring the bell, and have you ordered out of thehouse ?"  "Ring the bell! you dare not ring it! I defy you. . . What could you say? what do Ido here? . . . Ring it by all means !" She was stung by his manner, and looking on him with intense scorn, said,— "I will."  As she moved towards the bell, he drew a pistol from his pocket. She started, terrified at the sight. "You brave me, do you?" he said, hoarse with passion; "you brave me; well! ring !" Her hand was on the bell: she hesitated.  "What means that? Do you intend to murder me ?" " I do !" She did not start, she did not scream; a smile of unutterable scorn passed over her face. "Ring it, I tell you." "You wish me to order you to be turned out ?" "I wish to end this struggle—and I delare to God that I will end it, either in my favour, or with your life. I am reckless; choose you! You think lam a fool ; you are mistaken: lam no fool: nor shall you make me one. You say you love me; I hope for your sake you speak truly; if you. do not, you shall not live to torture me." "Your hand trembles."  "It is with passion, then. It is because the crisis has arrived. It is because this is the moment that must decide every thing."  Her hatid was still upon the bell. Her calmness puzzled and exasperated him, and when she said with a slight irony in her tone,— "And you really talk of shooting me, to prove your love r He levelled the pistol at her, and shouted,— "Ring the bell, and try me !" "I will. But first allow me to observe, that if there is one thing more despicable than the threat you make, it is to commit the exquisitely ridiculous mistake of acting such a part as you now act. Passion might excuse the deed; nothing can efface the childish stupidity of the pretence. Mr. Maxwell, when next you get up a scene like this, at least take care that your pistol is loaded; yours has no cap r Having uttered this in the coldest, calmest tone imaginable, she rang the bell. - A cry burst from him as he looked down, and saw in truth, that there was no cap on the nipple. He thrust the pistol into his pocket, and threw himself into a chair in wild confusion. The servant entered.  'Order a cab for Mr. Maxwell," Mrs. Vyner said. The servant retired, and they were again alone. Not a word passed. Overwhelmed with rage and shame, Maxwell sat brooding on his stormy thoughts. Mrs. Vyner watched him with scorn: he had lost the hold over her which his violence had gained: she now thought that he was not so terrible as Marmaduke had been, and from having feared, she now despised him. "The cab is at the door," said the servant. Maxwell did not move. His dark thoughts occupied him. It had been no vulgar threat, for the pistol was really loaded, although the cap had been forgotten; but he understood the contempt with which she must regard him, and he was ruminating projects of vengeance. She had taken up a book and was affecting to read, as it undisturbed by his presence; he was made aware of it by the rustle of the leaves as she turned them over; and conscjous. of the disadvantage of his position, he at length arose, and. looking at her malignantly, said,— "You fancy me an actor; I am one; my first appearance has been a farce; laugh, laugh! my next will be in. a tragedy !" And with a low bow he retired. We must not conclude, however, without dimlaying Mr. Lewes in a milder mood. Cecil and Blande, 'pafter their elopement and marriage, have advertised fir '"-board and.  • " •