"Oh, sir, save your breath and listen," smiled Mr. Chichester,
"for let me tell you, threats beget threats, and warnings, warnings!
Here is one, which I think--yes, which I venture to think you will
heed!" So saying, he unfolded the letter and laid it upon the table.
Barnabas glanced at it, hesitated, then stooping, read as follows:
DEAR LADY CLEONE,--I write this to warn you that the person calling
himself Mr. Beverley, and posing as a gentleman of wealth and
breeding, is, in reality, nothing better than a rich vulgarian, one
Barnabas Barty, son of a country inn-keeper. The truth of which
shall be proved to your complete satisfaction whenever you will, by:
Yours always humbly to command,
WILFRED CHICHESTER.
Now when he had finished reading, Barnabas sank down into a chair,
and, leaning his elbows upon the table, hid his face between his
hands; seeing which, Mr. Chichester laughed softly, and taking up
the letter, turned to the door. "Sir," said he, "as I mentioned
before, threats beget threats. Now,--you move, and I move. I tell you,
if you presume to interfere with me again in any way,--or with my
future plans in any way, then, in that same hour, Cleone shall know
you for the impudent impostor you are!" So Mr.
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