"I yielded at last. I went to Carl Walraven, and stood boldly up before
him, and faced him until he quailed. Conscience makes cowards of the
bravest, they say, and I suppose it was more his guilty conscience than
fear of me; but the fear was there. I threatened him with exposure--I
threatened to let the world know his black crimes, until he turned white
as the dead before me.
"He knew and I knew, in our heart of hearts, that I could do nothing.
How could I substantiate a charge of murder done years ago in
France?--how prove it? How bring it home to him? My words would be
treated as the ravings of a mad-woman, and I would be locked up in
a mad-house for my pains.
"But knowing all this, and knowing I knew it, he nevertheless feared me,
and promised to do all I wished. He kept his word, as you know. He went
to K----, and, seeing you, became as desirous of you as I would have had
him. Your bright, girlish beauty, the thought that you were his
daughter, did the rest. He brought you home with him, and grew to
love you dearly."
"Yes," Mollie said, very sadly, "he loves me dearly.
Pages:
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394