"No; rather a scoundrel."
"As you please; now will you make a lady of Fleta?"
"Yes, I will. She is your niece." Melchior started back. "Your agent, M'Dermott, who was sent over to find out Fleta's abode, met me in the coach, and he has tracked me here, and risked my life, by telling the people that I was a tithe proctor."
"Your information is very important," replied Melchior, "You will find some difficulty to prove all you say."
"Not the least," replied I, flushed with anger and with wine, "I have proof positive. I have seen her mother, and I can identify the child by the necklace which was on her neck when you stole her."
"Necklace!" cried Melchior.
"Yes, the necklace put into my hands by your own wife when we parted."
"Damn her!" replied Melchior.
"Do not damn her; damn yourself for your villany, and its being brought to light. Have I said enough, or shall I tell you more?"
"Pray tell me more."