there is clearly a leaf torn out of the marriage register about that
very time."
Mr. Shanks spoke the last words slowly and with some hesitation; but
after a pause he went on more boldly and rapidly. "Then we have a
deposition of the old woman Danby that they were married. This is clear
and precise," he continued with a grin: "she wanted to put in something
about 'in the eyes of God,' but I left that out as beside the question;
and she did the swearing very well. She might have broken down under
cross-examination, it is true; and therefore it was well to put off the
trial till she was gone. We can prove, moreover, that the late Sir John
always paid an annuity to both mother and child, in order to make them
keep secret--nay more, that he bribed the old woman Danby. This is our
strong point; but it is beyond doubt--I can prove it, madam--I can prove
it. All I fear is the mother; she is weak--very weak; I wish to heaven
she were out of the way till the trial is over."
"Send her out of the way," cried Mrs. Hazleton, decidedly; "send her to
France;" and then she added, with a bitter smile, "she may still figure
amongst the beauties of Versailles."
"But she will not go," replied Mr. Shanks. "Madam, she will not go. I
hinted at such a step--mentioned Cornwall or Ireland--any where she
could be concealed."
"Cornwall or Ireland!" exclaimed Mrs. Hazleton, "of course she would not
go. Why did not you propose Africa or the plantations? She shall go, Mr.
Shanks. Leave her to me. She shall go. And now, set to work at
once--immediately, I say--this very day. Send the youth to-morrow, and
let him bring me word that some step is taken. I will instruct him how
to act, while you deal with the law."
Mr. Shanks promised to obey, and retired overawed by all he had seen and
heard. There had, it is true, been no vehement demonstration of passion;
no fierce blaze; no violent flash; but there had been indications enough
to show the man of law all that was raging within. It had been for him
like gazing at a fine building on fire at that period of the
conflagration where dense smoke and heavy darkness brood over the
fearful scene, while dull, suddenly-smothered flashes break across the
gloom, and tell how terrible will be the flame when it does burst freely
forth.
He had never known Mrs. Hazleton before--he had never comprehended her
fully. But now he knew her--now, though perhaps the depths were still
unfathomable to his eyes, he f
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