eplied Dalhousie, a little
stung by the implied threat of Jaspar; "but I wish to provide for your
safety. I intend to go to France."

"I do not prevent you."

"I lack the means."

"And you wish me to furnish them?"

"I do."

"And how large a sum do you need?"

"A pretty round sum. I will keep entirely away from this part of the
country, so that you need not fear me."

"Fear you!" sneered Jaspar, rising and draining a glass of brandy. "I
fear no man, no devil, no angel!"

"Perhaps you are not aware that your reputation is in my hands."

"Not at all, sir," said Jaspar, coldly.

"Know, then, that I have a copy of the genuine will, and the means of
attesting it!"

Jaspar was prepared for almost anything, but this was too much. He paced
the room with redoubled energy. His bravado had vanished, and he was as
near pale as his bloated visage could approach to that hue. He strode up
and down the room in silence, while his heart beat the reveille of fear.
For a time his wonted firmness forsook him, and he felt as weak as a
child, and sunk back into a chair.

By degrees he grew calmer. The case was a desperate one. Again he
swallowed a long draught of brandy, which seemed to reduce his nerves to
a state of subjection. Gradually he rallied the dissipated powers of his
mind, and was ready to meet the emergency before him.

Dalhousie, after making his appalling announcement, had thrown himself
into a chair, to await the effect of his words. He seemed in no hurry to
continue the subject. Thus far the effect warranted his most sanguine
hopes of the realization of his great schemes.

Jaspar, after recovering some portion of his former calmness, said,

"May I ask how you obtained possession of the document?"

"That question, sir, I must decline answering."

"You will, at least, show me the paper?"

"That also I must decline."

Jaspar bit his lip.

"How shall I know, then, that you are not deceiving me?"

"I assure you that I have the document, and you must trust to my honor
for the rest."

"Honor!" exclaimed Jaspar, giving way to his passion. "No one but a
scoundrel ever talks of his honor! By ----, I only want to hear that
word, to know that the man is a ---- rascal!"

"Very well, sir, I shall be under the necessity of seeking out your
niece."

"My niece!" roared Jaspar, terror-stricken. "Did you not see her buried
at Vicksburg?"

"It might have been she, but it is scarcely possible."

"Hell!" shouted