mmoned, and with him the priest, and the
ceremony should be gone through with or without the consent of the lady.
Such marriages were not so very unusual in days when daughters were
looked upon as mere chattels to be disposed of as their parents or
guardians desired. It was usual, indeed, to marry them off at an earlier
age, when reluctance had not developed into actual resistance; but still
it could be done easily enough whatever the lady might say or do.

Peter Sanghurst, confident that the game was now entirely in his own
hands, could even afford to be indulgent and patient. In days to come he
would be amply avenged for all the slights now inflicted upon him. He
often pictured the moment when he should tell to Joan the true story of
his possession of the love token she had bestowed upon Raymond. He
thought that she would suffer even more in the hearing of it than he had
done upon the rack; and his wife could not escape him as his other
victim had. He could wring her heartstrings as he had hoped to wring the
nerves of Raymond's sensitive frame, and none could deliver her out of
his hand.

But now he was still playing the farce of the suppliant lover, guessing
all the while that she knew as well as he what a farce the part was. He
strove to make her surrender, but was met by an invincible firmness.

"Do what you will, Peter Sanghurst," she said: "summon my father, call
the priest, do what you will, your wife I will never be. I have told you
so before; I tell it you again."

He smiled a smile more terrible than his frown.

"We shall see about that," was his reply, as he turned on his heel and
strode from the room.

When he was gone Joan turned suddenly towards the old man, who was all
this while standing with folded arms in a distant window, listening in
perfect silence to the dialogue. She made a few swift paces towards him
and looked into his troubled face.

"Nat," she said, in a low voice, "thou hast not forgotten thy promise
made to me?"

"My mistress, I have not forgotten."

"And thou wilt keep thy word?"

"I will keep it."

He spoke with manifest effort; but Joan heaved a sigh of relief. She
came one step nearer, and laid her soft hand upon the old servant's
shoulder, looking into his face with affectionate solicitude.

"I know not if I should ask it of thee; it may cost thee thy life."

"My life is naught, if I can but save thee from that monster, sweet
mistress; but oh, if it might be by another