" (Great Heavens! what can the wretch
mean?) "Should you refuse to become my wife, and affix your signature to
the papers in your possession, I have reason to know that Bainrothe
designs to make, or rather continue, you dead, and imprison you in a
lonely house on the sea-coast, which he owns, where others of his
victims have before now lived and died unknown!" (Very melodramatic,
truly; but I don't believe Cagliostro would dare to do it.) "To convince
you of the truth of my allegations. Dr. Engelehart is instructed to
place in your hands a note recently intercepted by me from that
arch-conspirator to his son, which please return to him, my truest
friend" (direst enemy, you mean), "along with this letter, as I send you
both documents at my own peril, and dare not leave them in your hands"
(how magnanimous!); and here I dropped the letter on the table, and
extended my hand mutely to Dr. Englehart for the note, which was ready
for me, in the hollow of his pudgy palm.
It did, indeed, most clearly confirm the statement, true or false, of
the ubiquitous Gregory. Returning it to the physician _pro tem_., I then
continued the perusal of this singular love-letter to the end, in which
the lawyer and knave predominated in spite of Eros! Yet there was food
for consideration here, and extremest terror.
"How long before this ultimatum is proposed to me, which Mr.
Pages:
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544