"I know . . . and Lambert is a desperate enemy: he dogs Sue's footsteps, he will come upon you one day when you are alone, or with her . . . he will provoke a quarrel. . . ."
"I know—I know . . ." he retorted impatiently, "'tis no use recapitulating the many evil contingencies that might occur. . . . I know that Lambert is dangerous . . . damn him! . . . Would to God I could be rid of him . . . somehow."
"You can dismiss him," she suggested, "pay him his wages and send him about his business."
"What were the use? He would remain in the village—in his brother's cottage mayhap . . . with more time on his hands for his spying work. . . . He would dog the wench's steps more jealously than eve. . . . No! no!" he added, whilst he cast a quick, furtive look at her—a look which somehow caused her to shiver with apprehension more deadly than heretofore.
"That's not what I want," he said significantly.
"What's to be done?" she murmured, "what's to be done?"
"I must think," he rejoined harshly. "But we must get that love-sick youth out of the way . . . him and his airs of Providence in disguise. . . . Something must be done to part him from the wench effectually and completely . . . something that would force him to quit this neighborhood . . . forever, if possible."
She did not reply immediately, but fixed her large, dark eyes upon him, silently for a while, then she murmured:
"If I only knew!"
"Knew what?"