"Is it possible?" ejaculated Hardin in a ruminating manner.
"It is easy to convince your doubts. Just engage her in conversation and allude to her early life. She'll betray herself, my word for it. Besides I've heard of her since you left the east. She had a beau there at Scraggiewood, one George Wild; and after picking up some education at a country parson's, came west as governess in a wealthy family. These several things have recurred to my memory since beholding her at Dr. Prague's last evening; for, depend upon it, this fine lady, who captivates all hearts, is the old Scraggiewood witch's daughter."
After this speech from Sumpter a silence ensued. Hardin was revolving in his mind whether to divulge his plan of revenge to his companion, and enlist him as a co-worker to assist in the completion of his schemes. He saw this accidental information would aid in furthering his plans. How should he use it? He rose and paced the floor.
"Jack," he said at length, giving him a slap on the shoulder, "can I trust you?"
"Always, Hardin," was the ready response. "I am yours to command."
Another pause, and Hardin continued to pace the floor with nervous, uneven steps. At length, as he passed the large, oval window, he caught a glimpse of his wife walking in the conservatory. Approaching, he tapped slightly on the glass to arrest her attention. She turned, and a frown gathered on her features as she met his earnest, affectionate gaze. O, Marion! why couldn't you have smiled then? What might not one genial look from your sweet eyes have averted?
Hardin turned away, his heart cold and callous.
"Fool am I to hesitate!" he muttered; "who cares for me, and whom should I care for?"
Drawing a chair close to Sumpter's, they conferred in whispers for the space of an hour. Then both arose.
"Now make yourself presentable, Jack," said Hardin, "and we'll proceed forthwith to put our scheme afoot."