"He'll dare anything, and if he don't, I will. Sho! I don't mind killin' anybody. I beat a poor-house chile to death last year, and only three months ago I p'isened my husband with arsenic. An' that isn't all I done, neither, for----" She paused in the recital of her crimes, for the listener had dropped limply in a swoon, overcome by the horror of the story. Oh, the weary days, and the terror-haunted nights! How did the poor captive drag through them? The wonder to her ever afterward was that she did not go mad. At last Clifford Standish came. It was a full week since he had brought her there and the storm had somewhat abated in violence, but the snow still lay deep upon the ground, and the wailing of the winter wind was like the knell of hope in her ears. The door opened, and her cowardly abductor stood within the room, gazing at his cruel work. Pretty Geraldine had wept till her brown eyes were dim and heavy, with purple shadows beneath them, and her cheeks all wan and sunken. She had not taken the trouble to exchange her blanket wrapper for the cloth gown Miss Erroll had put in the hand-bag. She had not given a thought to her appearance. But even her disheveled locks and haggard looks could not quench the fire of passion in the villain's heart. He looked at her gloatingly, exclaiming: "Good-morning, pretty Geraldine. I suppose that after your week with Jane Crabtree, you are glad to see even me!" CHAPTER LVIII. SENTENCE OF DEATH. "Alas, a wicked man am I; With temper fierce, too prone to strife, And quick to wrath, my hands I ply To evil deeds." BENJAMIN HATHAWAY. Geraldine gave the smooth villain a glance of measureless contempt as she answered, bitterly: "The sight of his satanic majesty would be more welcome than you, Clifford Standish!" "Still defiant!" he laughed, mockingly. "Why, I thought that a week of Mrs. Crabtree's society would bring you to your senses!" "Say rather would cause me to lose my senses!" she retorted, bitterly, and there was a moment's silence, which he broke by saying, impatiently: "I will come to the purpose of my visit, Geraldine, I wish to marry you." "So you have told me before," disdainfully. "Well, I tell you so again, and I am fully determined that you shall become my wife!" "You have a wife already, you villain!" "She died in New York recently, and I am free to offer you my hand in honorable marriage. Will you accept it, Geraldine?" "Never! I would die before I would marry you!" "It is the alternative you must accept unless you become my bride!" The steel-blue glitter of his eyes was diabolical as he fixed them upon her, and continued: "Of course you understand that I have run a great risk in bringing you here, and made myself liable to the law for kidnaping--that is, unless you marry me, and give the affair the color of an elopement." He paused, but she did not speak, so he went on: