"When and where?" asked the Count, or Col. Tarleton, as you please.
"As soon as I leave this place, and am the tenant of a home," replied Frank, her voice trembling on that word, so new to her—"home!"
"Daughter," said Tarleton, and his voice was deep and husky, indicating powerful emotion, "I have a few words to say to you; you will do well to heed them. The drama of twenty-one years draws to a close. The termination of the fifth act will decide my fate and yours. This boy is now almost the only obstacle between myself and my brother's unbounded wealth, and between you and the position of a respected, if not virtuous, woman. And this boy, mark you, shall not leave this house save as your husband. I swear it! Do you hear me,—"
His voice grew thicker, huskier,—he seized her by the wrist.
"Father!" she gasped, as though her proud spirit was cowed by the ferocious determination of his manner.
"He shall not leave this house save as your husband. You say that he is fascinated with you, and you, at first sight, with him. Well! He has seventy-one thousand dollars now in his possession, (no matter how gained), and on the 25th of December, that is, to-morrow, if living, he will become the possessor of the Van Huyden estate, a richer man than Girard and Astor together; ay, ten Astors and Girards on top of that. As his wife, your position will be that of a queen; and as for myself, I will sacrifice my hopes as the brother of the testator, in order to behold you the queenly wife of that testator's son. You hear me?"
"I do," gasped Frank.
"But there must be no mistake, mark you, no 'slip between the cup and the lip;' the time is too near, to trust this matter to the remotest chance of failure. He must be your husband ere he leaves this house, or,—"
"Or?" faltered Frank.
"Or,—mark you, I do not threaten; but I am speaking Fate,—or, he will not appear on the 25th of December."