die _afterwards_ as soon as you please," retorted Jonathan;
"but live till then you _shall_. I've sent for the priest."

"Mercy!" cried Mrs. Sheppard, vainly trying to discover a gleam of
compassion in the thief-taker's inexorable countenance,--"Mercy! mercy!"

"Pshaw!" rejoined Jonathan. "You should be glad to be made an honest
woman."

"Oh! let me die," groaned the widow. "I have not many days,--perhaps,
not many hours to live. But kill me rather than commit this outrage."

"That wouldn't answer my purpose," replied Jonathan, savagely. "I didn't
carry you off from old Wood to kill you, but to wed you."

"What motive can you have for so vile a deed?" asked Mrs. Sheppard.

"You know my motive well enough," answered Jonathan. "However, I'll
refresh your memory. I once might have married you for your beauty,--now
I marry you for your wealth."

"My wealth," replied Mrs. Sheppard. "I have nothing."

"You are heiress to the Trenchard property," rejoined Jonathan, "one of
the largest estates in Lancashire."

"Not while Thames Darrell and Sir Rowland live."

"Sir Rowland is dead," replied Jonathan, gloomily. "Thames Darrell only
waits my mandate to follow him. Before our marriage there will be no
life between you and the estates."

"Ah!" exclaimed Mrs. Sheppard.

"Look here," cried Jonathan, stooping down and taking hold of a ring in
the floor, with which by a great effort he raised up a flag. "In this
pit," he added, pointing to the chasm below, "your brother is buried.
Here your nephew will speedily be thrown."

"Horrible!" cried Mrs. Sheppard, shuddering violently. "But your
dreadful projects will recoil on your own head. Heaven will not permit
the continuance of such wickedness as you practise."

"I'll take my chance," replied Jonathan, with a sinister smile. "My
schemes have succeeded tolerably well hitherto."

"A day of retribution will assuredly arrive," rejoined Mrs. Sheppard.

"Till then, I shall remain content," returned Wild. "And now, Mrs.
Sheppard, attend to what I'm about to say to you. Years ago, when you
were a girl and in the bloom of your beauty, I loved you."

"Loved me! _You_!"

"I loved you," continued Jonathan, "and struck by your appearance, which
seemed above your station, inquired your history, and found you had been
stolen by a gipsy in Lancashire. I proceeded to Manchester, to
investigate the matter further, and when there ascertained, beyond a
doubt, that you were the eldest dau