“You have become a very beautiful woman, Margaret,” he said, “and you and I were always good friends. I shall never forget this kindness. I suppose that the rector has told you all?”
“Yes, Harold.”
Her lips were hot and dry, and there was a look of unutterable longing in her eyes. It seemed that all her scheming and wrongdoing had been in vain. She was to lose him, after all.
“There is one other thing that you must know, so that you may guard my Theresa with greater care.”
He bent closer.
“Listen, Margaret, and you shall hear that which must be forever locked in your heart—the story of an infamous vendetta. I would not have Theresa know one word of it for all that life is worth.”
He then told her the story that he had heard from Mr. Hamilton, and the final cause of the old man’s sudden death.
“And these assassins may be near us now?” she whispered. “Oh, Harold, it is terrible!”
“As my wife, Theresa may lose her identity. I shall guard her with constant care, and if I can succeed in making an example of one of the fiends, I will show him no mercy!”
For hours after this recital Margaret Nugent was very thoughtful, and her face was not pleasant to look upon.