"Oh! let me die," groaned the widow. "I have not many days,--perhaps, not many hours to live. But kill me rather than commit this outrage." "That wouldn't answer my purpose," replied Jonathan, savagely. "I didn't carry you off from old Wood to kill you, but to wed you." "What motive can you have for so vile a deed?" asked Mrs. Sheppard. "You know my motive well enough," answered Jonathan. "However, I'll refresh your memory. I once might have married you for your beauty,--now I marry you for your wealth." "My wealth," replied Mrs. Sheppard. "I have nothing." "You are heiress to the Trenchard property," rejoined Jonathan, "one of the largest estates in Lancashire." "Not while Thames Darrell and Sir Rowland live." "Sir Rowland is dead," replied Jonathan, gloomily. "Thames Darrell only waits my mandate to follow him. Before our marriage there will be no life between you and the estates." "Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Sheppard. "Look here," cried Jonathan, stooping down and taking hold of a ring in the floor, with which by a great effort he raised up a flag. "In this pit," he added, pointing to the chasm below, "your brother is buried. Here your nephew will speedily be thrown." "Horrible!" cried Mrs. Sheppard, shuddering violently. "But your dreadful projects will recoil on your own head. Heaven will not permit the continuance of such wickedness as you practise." "I'll take my chance," replied Jonathan, with a sinister smile. "My schemes have succeeded tolerably well hitherto." "A day of retribution will assuredly arrive," rejoined Mrs. Sheppard. "Till then, I shall remain content," returned Wild. "And now, Mrs. Sheppard, attend to what I'm about to say to you. Years ago, when you were a girl and in the bloom of your beauty, I loved you." "Loved me! _You_!" "I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. I proceeded to Manchester, to investigate the matter further, and when there ascertained, beyond a doubt, that you were the eldest daughter of Sir Montacute Trenchard. This discovery made, I hastened back to London to offer you my hand, but found you had married in the mean time a smock-faced, smooth-tongued carpenter named Sheppard. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. I swore I would bring your husband to the gallows,--would plunge you in such want, such distress, that you should have no alternative but the last frightful resource of misery,--and I also swore, that if you had a son he should share the same fate as his father." "And terribly you have kept your vow," replied Mrs. Sheppard. "I have," replied Jonathan. "But I am now coming to the point which most concerns you. Consent to become my wife, and do not compel me to have recourse to violence to effect my purpose, and I will spare your son."