Adventure stories; Dime novels; Impostors and imposture -- Fiction; Love stories
"Bah! You needn't fear that she will hear what I'm saying. The puny
little dear has swooned again. Didn't you notice that I had to fairly
carry her from the altar?"
"These dainty little heiresses have to be handled with kid gloves,"
remarked Halloran. "Fainting when anything goes wrong seems to be their
especial weakness."
"She will soon find out that I will not tolerate that kind of thing!"
exclaimed Armstrong, as he insisted upon being called from that moment
out.
"Be easy with her. Don't show your hand or your temper until you get
hold of the money," warned Halloran. "Remember you are playing for a
great stake, and the surest way of winning is by keeping the girl in
love with you."
"She is mine now. I am her lord and master. I shall not bother making
love to the milk-and-water, sentimental creature, as the other one
probably did. She isn't my style, and I have little patience with her.
There was a decided feeling of antagonism between us from the start, and
then my forcing her to go through the ceremony at the point of a cold
steel weapon will not have the effect of endearing me to her ladyship.
She is sure to hate me, but that won't bother me a snap of my finger."
"Don't get independent too soon," remarked Halloran. "Pride always goeth
before a fall, you know. You haven't the money in your hands yet. Don't
lose sight of that important fact, my dear boy."
They talked on for half an hour or more; then suddenly the driver drew
rein.
"This is the country tavern, and my horses cannot go any further; they
are dead lame and played out," he announced.
CHAPTER VI.
THE VILLAIN AND HIS VICTIM.
It was certainly something entirely out of the experience of the old
innkeeper at the country crossroads to be aroused from his slumbers at
midnight by guests seeking the shelter of his hospitable roof, and that,
too, on the most terrible night of the year.
The old man could scarcely believe his ears when he heard the sound of
the old brass knocker on the front door resound loudly through the
house.
He quite imagined that he must have dreamed it, until a second and third
peal brought him to his senses and his feet at the same instant.
His bewilderment knew no bounds when he appeared at the door a few
minutes later and found a coach standing there and the occupants seeking
a lodging, also shelter for the horses.
"I haven't but one room to spare," exclaimed the old innkeeper, holding
a flaring candle high above his head to better view his visitor.
"Have you a room in which a fire could be made?" asked one of the men.
"We have a lady with us."
"I suppose we could let you have my daughter Betsy's, she being off to
the city on a visit."
"My companion and his br--his wife could have that; you can dispose of
me anywhere," returned the speaker. "I could doze in a chair in the
barroom for that matter. The driver could be as easily disposed of."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account