"What a capital place to be married! Who will pronounce the ceremony?"
"Bless you, my children!" invoked a sober-looking fellow, extending his arms in mock solemnity.
An earnest, significant look flashed from Eldon Brand's eyes into the still blanched face of Minnie Dare. As they met the glance it bore but one meaning to her, and the rosy color again mantled her cheek.
"Time's up," said the guide; "come along."
It was late ere the party completed the tour of the Short Route wonders, and there was barely time to dress for the ball-room at Cave Hotel, a dance being an attractive interlude between journeyings.
Indoor etiquette forbade the hateful espionage to which Hammond had subjected the girl he claimed as his own during the informal jaunt of the day. So at ten o'clock, despite the scowl on his dark face, she stood up in the dance with Eldon Brand.
Perhaps her persecutor might have attuned his wooing to something less ferocious, but soft words having proved futile, he sought to frighten her into compliance. Love's dallying might come later on. He deemed his prize secure. She could not escape him. He held her father's honor—aye, his very life—in his relentless grasp; for Colonel Dare was not a man who could survive disgrace. Let her rebel, and the world should hear an ugly story of rash speculation, involving a ward's trust money; of financial ruin and despair. Oh, yes—she was his, fast and sure.
It required all her persuasive power to withhold her lover from a personal attack upon her betrothed husband.
"It can do no good, Eldon," she urged; "my father has promised my hand to this man. He is somehow in his power. There seems no escape. Oh, that I might die and be free! It is like a horrible nightmare."
Then his words came in passionate pleading. Eloquently the tones fell upon her ears. At length the hopeless apathy in her eyes gave place to interest, then animation, and finally to a degree of agitation but ill-concealed from the suspicious watcher. They were standing on a low balcony just outside the ballroom.