"No, take your own method, thou alternate of the late Mike Donovan," exclaimed Duff Salter with a smile.
"I never thought there could be an excuse for my behavior," said Andrew Zane, "until this unexpected kind treatment had encouraged me. Indeed, my friends, I am in every alternative unfortunate. To defend myself I must reflect upon the dead. I will not make a defence, but tell my story plainly.
"My father was a man of deeds—a kind, rude business man. He loved me and I worshipped him, though our apposite tempers frequently brought us in conflict. Neither of us knew how to curb the other or be curbed in turn. Above all things I learned to fear my father's will; it was invincible.
"My wife and I grew up in my widower father's family, and fell in love, and had an understanding that at a proper season we would marry. That season could not be long postponed when Agnes's increasing beauty and my ardor kept pace together. I sought an occasion to break the secret to my father, and his reception of it filled me with terror. 'Marry Agnes!' he replied. 'You have no right to her. Your mother left her to me. I may marry her myself.'
"If he had never formed this design before it was now pursued with his well-known tireless energy. The suggestion needed no other encouragement than her beauty, ever present to inflame us both. Her household habits and society were to his liking; he offered me everything but that which embraced all to me. 'Go to Europe!' he said. 'Take a wife where you will; but Agnes you shall not have. I will give you money, pleasure, and independence, but I love where you have looked. Agnes will be your mother, not your wife!'
"Alas! gentlemen, this purpose of my father was not mere tyranny; he loved her, indeed, and that was the insurmountable fact. My betrothed had too much reason to know it. We mingled our tears together and acknowledged our dependence and duty, but we loved with that youthful fulness which cannot be mistaken nor dissuaded. In our distress we went to that kind partner whom my father had raised from an apprentice to be his equal, and asked him what to do. He told us to marry while we could. Agnes preferred an open marriage as least in consequences, and involving every trouble in the brave outset. I hoped to wean my father from his wilfulness, and yet protect my affection by a secret marriage, to which with difficulty I prevailed on my betrothed to consent. After our marriage I found my husband's domain no less invaded by my father's suit, until life became intolerable and it was necessary to speak. Poor, brave Rainey, feeling keenly for us, fixed the time and place. He had seldom crossed my father, and I trembled for his safety, but never could have anticipated what came to pass.
"Mr. Rainey said to us, 'I will tell your father, while we are crossing the river some evening in a batteau, that you and Agnes are married, and his suit is fruitless. He will be unable to do worse than sit still and bear it in the small limits of the boat, and before we touch the other shore will get philosophy from time and consideration.'
"That plan was carried out. Shall I recount the dreadful circumstances again? Spare me, I entreat you!"
"No, I won't! The whole truth!" exclaimed the stern magistrate. "Tell it!"
"You are making no mistake, my young friend," said Duff Salter. "It will all be told very soon."